The Language of Magic
by Ziva- Zia- Z
Summary: Do you believe in magic? McGiva. Written 2008.
1. Chapter 1

**The Language of Magic**

 **Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **Summary: Do you believe in magic? McGiva. Written 2008.**

 _Are you a witch, or are you a fairy,_

 _Or are you the wife of Michael Clearly?_

 _\- Irish Nursery Rhyme_

They rushed through the countryside, their laughter dancing on the wind, mixing with the scent of the sea. They had promised their mother that they would be back before dinner, back before the fog rolled in and they got lost, back before the wee folk came out to play.

They promised.

* * *

The two children stumbled through the countryside towards the sea, holding tight to each others' hands, unaware that they had unknowingly broken their promise to their mother. Their laughter filled the countryside, as they wandered deeper and deeper into the rocks near the sea, staying away from the shorelines of the rivers and creeks, for the kelpies waited for innocent passersby.

"Brother, look!"

He stopped, turning back to what she was pointing at- someone was watching them from the depths of the sea; it had taken them most of the day, but they'd finally reached the shore, and were intent on spending some time playing on the beach. All they could see was the top of her head and her eyes. Slowly, the two children moved closer, curious.

"Are _ye_ a mermaid?"

The head in the water moved slowly back and forth from side to side. The green eyes studied the two children- they appeared to be roughly the same age, maybe a few months apart, if even that. As they moved closer, it was evident that they also possessed the same green eyes that watched them from the water, and the same reddish hair...

"No, _bu'_ people often mistake me for one."

The two children shared a glance, before,

"Then _wha'_ are _ye_?"

A smile tugged at her lips, one the children couldn't see. Instead of answering, she ducked back into the water, and the children shared a glance, before continuing on down the beach. As they set to making sandcastles, she poked her head through the water again, closer this time.

"I am what _ye_ are."

The two kids turned back to her, their castle abandoned. "What do _ye_ mean?" The boy stepped closer, into the waves, and she lifted her head out of the water, grinning.

"I also come from the sea."

"The sea?" The girl asked, joining her brother.

She nodded. " _Aye_. I come from the land of myth and magic, like _ye_ do. _Ye_ were born with magic in _yer_ blood, both of _ye_."

"What type of magic?" The boy asked, as his sister took his hand. Silence settled between them, and she rose a little higher out of the water. Her long, dark red hair clung to her skin; a chain hung around her neck, two pearls dangling from it. It was rare for her, being within the water without her skin on, but she knew this was the easiest way to not scare them. She had waited years to see them; ever since the wee folk had stolen them from her-

But then again, she had done them wrong, taking what didn't belong to her, but she hadn't been able to help herself. And so, in some way, she deserved her punishment. But now...

"An ancient magic. A magic believed _t'_ be myth now."

The girl clapped her hands in excitement. "Does _Mams_ know it too? _Mams_ knows all sorts _o'_ magic."

Her eyes misted over. _They 'ave no mem'ry of ye, o' their lives b'fore this time. Which means they 'ave no mem'ry of being stolen from ye. At leas' they're free o' tha' mem'ry._ "No. This magic is... special."

"Do we need wands?" The boy asked, for he had read that that was how the great wizard Merlin had harnessed his magic. She shook her head, her green eyes studying them silently. _They 'ave grown so..._ She opened her mouth to speak, when the sky darkened and a light rain began to fall. She watched in silence as the girl turned back to her brother.

"Brother! The fog!"

Without another word to her, the children grasped hands and rushed from the water onto the beach, gathering their light jackets. They skidded to a stop by the cliff face, watching as the fog slowly made its way towards them; there was no way they could move through it. To pass through fog was to walk right into the fae's domain and forever remain. Slowly, the two backed up, until they stood within the sea.

"Mams will kill us." He turned back to her. "We can't go home. If we go through the fog-"

"I am well aware _o' wha'_ the _wee_ folk will do _t' ye_." She replied, seeing the fear in the boy's eyes. If only she could pull them into her embrace- She turned, the song of the sea calling to her, beckoning her to return to its depths. She'd stayed out of her skin and away from the depths of the sea for too long... _Ye canna leave them, they're ye're bairns. Ye canna leave them-_ "I can help _ye_."

The boy turned back to her, pulling his sister closer. "Help us how?" She bit her lip; in the distance, she could hear the soft flutter of wings, could see the twinkle of lights, and knew the wee folk were out to play; for the fog was only a portion of their element, but their element none the less. It helped to hide them from a world that no longer believed in magic... a world that mocked and berated them, twisting them in literature and film for its own enjoyment. If she could keep her children from becoming servants to the wee folk...

A moment passed, before she removed the chain- in reality, two chains- from her neck. Once separated, she held them out to the children, who each took one. The pearl sparked in the darkness, and after a moment, the boy asked,

"Pearls?"

She didn't correct him, for he wouldn't believe her if she actually admitted that the pearls were really bits of stardust and tiny pieces of the galaxy melded together by Danu herself. Silent, she nodded. "Keep them on _ye_ at all times; they're rare."

"I don't understand. How are you going to help us?"

She held her arms out, beckoning them to her. The fluttering was getting louder; they could sense the children, she knew they could- "We _don' 'ave_ much time. Hurry." The siblings shared a glance, before both reached for her. She pushed them both down into the waves, as the fog rolled out towards her; the fluttering was a cornucopia of sound now, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming, for the flutter of fairy wings was similar to nails on a chalk board for a human... _I'ma so sorry, me loves. Please forgive me, bu' I 'ad no choice._

With one last glance at the fog and flickering lights of the wee folk, she ducked under the water, returning to her skin.

* * *

In the tiny cottage, a plate shattered. The young mother rushed to the window, choking on a sob as she watched the fog roll in, hearing the keen of the _bean sí_ and feeling the pain of her heart breaking.


	2. Chapter 2

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

The waves crashed against the shore.

He felt as though he'd been under water for a thousand years, and once he was able to get his bearings, he slowly pushed himself up, looking around. They were on some sort of... beach. Shaking his head, he turned, gently shaking his sister. Moments passed before her eyes slowly opened, and she pushed herself up. "Brother? _Wha' 'appened_..."

He shook his head, looking around, drinking everything in. "I don't know... I don't where we are..."

They were definitely on a beach, that much was certain.

But it wasn't the beach along the Irish coast that they had spent so much time at.

As he helped her to her feet, she poked her head out of the waves, watching in silence as adults rushed towards the two children.

* * *

It was chaotic, to say the least.

Two children, having washed up on the beach... that was something only heard of in stories.

But as she rushed to help, she knew that this was no story, this was very, very real. The boy pulled away from her, going to his sister and pulling her close. Several minutes passed, as paramedics arrived and the children were looked over; wrapped in blankets and given crackers to eat. They refused to be separated from each other, hands clutching tight to each other.

"Can you tell us your names?"

The boy opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. "I... I don't remember..."

"Okay. How old are you? And your sister? How old is she?" The children shared a glance, clearly confused. Neither said a word; they simply clung to each other, silent.

"Do you know where your parents are?"

The boy bit his lip, reaching up to grasp at the chain around his neck- a chain identical to the one his sister wore. "Please. Where are we?"

She met his gaze, surprised that the child clearly didn't- _But then again, they're just children._ "Ah... Hampton Beach, New Hampshire, in America."

" _'merica_?" He turned to his sister, who's eyes widened. It was then that she realized that they both had soft, lilting accents. _Welsh? Scottish, maybe? No. Irish._ _What are two Irish children doing on an American beach, alone?_

"Can you tell me where you're from?"

* * *

She watched in silence as her children were taken from the beach. She had done all she could, making sure they got out before the wee folk claimed them. When they'd fallen into her embrace, both had panicked, having no memory of their lives before; she'd been gentle, kissing them both softly before guiding them beneath the water. The journey had been long, but she hadn't minded, as she'd held tight to her children-

She still wasn't sure what had caused her to stop at _this_ beach, but she knew that it was perhaps the safest of all the beaches along the east coast. Maybe it had been the woman walking along the beach- the woman who had her arms wrapped loosely around the siblings.

After a moment, the boy turned to look back at the sea...

She rose slightly out of the water, eyes meeting his across the sand and waves. After a moment, the boy reached out and waved. As the woman turned to follow his gaze, she ducked back down beneath the water, slipping back into her skin, tears filing her eyes as she disappeared within the waves.

* * *

"John Doe and Jane Doe, roughly ages... ten and eight, I would guess. Siblings. Possibly from Ireland, but no family to speak of, not that they can remember." She looked up from reading the report Social Services had worked up for the siblings, and leaned against the door frame. They huddled together on the exam table, having been given fresh clothes to change into after they were both checked over by the doctors and nurses.

She had to do something... if she didn't, they would end up in the foster care system, and that was no place for a child. The American foster system was... hell to say the least. She knew firsthand, and the last thing she wanted was to see them go into the system. A moment passed, before she wrapped her arms around herself, tears coming to her eyes.

 _All I ever wanted were children._

Footsteps caused her to turn, and she found herself face-to-face with her husband. "I'm so sorry I'm late, sweetheart. I just got out of surgery-" He glanced over her shoulder at the two children. "Are those-"

"Yeah, they are."

As he stepped into the room, the boy looked up, fear in his eyes. The man slowly removed the surgical cap he wore, going to them and kneeling so he was level with them. "Hey, there. I'm Doctor McGee." The kids shared a glance, before the boy held his hand out. "And you are?"

"They don't remember, John." He turned back to his wife, meeting her gaze. "They have no memory of who they are or how they got here." She pushed herself away from the wall, joining him.

"Amnesia?"

She sighed, reaching out and gently brushing her fingers through the girl's hair. "It's possible. When I found them, they were half-drowned."

"You spent your day off from saving lives at the beach, only to save lives?" He cracked a smile, and she sighed.

"I needed time to think. The beach helps me think." She studied them silently. "What's going to happen to them, John?"

"If no one claims them, they'll go into the system." He replied, standing and sliding his hands into the pockets of his white lab coat. After a moment's contemplation, she shook her head.

"No, we can't-"

"Kathleen-"

"They'll be eaten alive in the system, John! They're _children_! They need a home, love-"

"So what do you suggest we do, Katlee? Take them in ourselves? We are not equipped to raise-"

"You know that's all I've ever wanted." She whispered, turning back to the children. "All I ever wanted, more than a career, was to be a mother. Don't get me wrong, John, being a paramedic is... wonderful, but..."

"But it's not what you really wanted." He finished; she met his gaze. After a moment, he took her arm, guiding her out of the room and to the nurse's station not far away. "Katlee, I know you've always wanted kids, and I'm sorry I can't give you-"

"It's not your fault, John, you know that. You didn't take that away from me. Nicholas Williams did." She crossed her arms, gaze going back towards the room the two children were in. "Please, John. Can we at least talk to Social Services? Maybe... maybe they'll let us take them, until..." She stopped, not wanting to say it, but the words hung thick in the air between them. _Until they can be placed within an appropriate foster family, or adopted._

A moment passed, before he reached out, taking her into his arms. "If it will take the pain out of those beautiful eyes of yours, then we'll talk to Social Services."

She slid her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. "I love you, John McGee."


	3. Chapter 3

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

"Brother?"

The boy looked up as his sister crawled into bed with him. Social Services had, after talking to the McGees, that it would probably be best if the children were to stay with them, just until it could be decided on what to do with them. After John got off shift, he and Kathleen took the children to Walmart, picked up a few things- clothes, shoes, socks, things children needed- so they would have at least something to change into and sleep in. Once home, Kathleen had done up the two twin beds in the guest room, and after dinner, tucked them in.

The siblings lay in the darkness, both unable to sleep. They still wore the necklaces the creature had given them, still clung tight to each other. After a moment, however, the boy got up, having heard voices in the living room. "Brother? Where are _ye goin'_?" But before he could reply, she got up, joining him at the slightly opened door.

Silently, they listened.

"This is only temporary-"

"No. I don't want it to be."

"Katlee-"

"No, John. I'm not going to let them fall into the foster system. It's Hell. I'm not going to let them go through that."

"We may not have a choice-"

"I don't care. I want them to stay. John, if they go into the system, there's a good chance they'll be split up. You've seen how attached to each other they are. And even if they aren't split up, they have a high possibility of being placed in an abusive home, and if they aren't adopted, then they'll end up aging out, and-" She stopped. John sighed. He knew that his wife was desperate to keep the children out of the system; she herself had been placed in foster care, torn from her older sister as a toddler and placed in a home in Alameda, as far away from her sibling as possible. She'd then bounced from home to home, each more abusive than the last... until she'd aged out of the system at eighteen and been forced to make her own way in the world. That was the _last_ thing she wanted them to go through.

"Katlee-"

"I don't want them going through what I went through, John. And we'll love them-"

After a moment, the boy returned to bed, his sister following.

* * *

She looked up from her skimming of paperwork as someone came into the kitchen. Months had passed, and the children had flourished under John and Kathleen's care; so when they finally approached Social Services and asked about adopting the siblings, and been approved, Kathleen threw herself into researching all she could.

But as the adoption day got closer and closer, the couple discovered a major problem that would throw a huge wrench into their plans for a family.

It wasn't just the fact that the children had no memory of who they were or where they came from, but because they had no memory of who they actually were, that meant there were no Social Security numbers, no birth certificates, no identification at all. And since they didn't know who they were or where they lived in Ireland, it was next to impossible to search the budding Interpol databases.

So John turned to his older brother, Patrick, an Admiral in the Navy. After explaining the situation, Patrick got in touch with a friend of his, who was able to take what the children were able to tell him and piece it together into a- albeit limited- profile for each child. And then came the matter of their names. Due to the... amnesia, John and Kathleen had decided... they had no memory of their names, either first or last.

After a discussion with the children, however, Kathleen had settled on two names- Sarah and Timothy.

They were names Kathleen had dreamed of naming her children from the time she herself was a child. But when her dream had been destroyed, she had tucked the names away, heartbroken that she would never get to use the names she'd loved so. Until now...

And so the two children, who had washed up on Hampton Beach that long ago day became Timothy James and Sarah Margaret McGee, ages ten and eight.

* * *

Not long after the adoption went through, John transferred to a hospital in Virginia; the small family moved, and the two children were enrolled in school. When asked to see their transcripts from their previous school, Kathleen and John had fudged the truth, saying that they had both been taught by a tutor; that they had spent weeks in the system before their adoption, and that whatever they had been taught while in foster care- be it homeschooling or private tutoring- had been lost in the shuffle. So it wasn't an exact lie, but it kept the school's questions about the arrival of two strange young children at bay.

Both Tim and Sarah excelled at school; despite having no memories of their life before the beach, they were exceedingly gifted- Tim's mind, it turned out, was a working computer in regards to mathematics, and Sarah's gift for literature was unfounded. Both were chalked up to being exceedingly bright children, and were suggested for the gifted program at school.

By the time a year rolled around, Sarah was reading college level books, and Tim was focusing on trigonometry. And despite their missing memories, both spoke fluent Gaelic, Ulster Scots, Irish Sign Language, Northern Irish Sign Language, and other minor languages, such as French, Arabic, and German. They also seemed to communicate in their own made up language- a mixture of Gaelic, Irish Sign, and Arabic.

As the children grew, reaching their teens, it became evident that there was something unusual about the siblings. They often spent hour after hour at the beach, prancing through the waves as they rolled in, built tiny homes and furniture and left them out among the trees, and pretending to cast spells and perform magic for each other.

"They probably didn't have a normal childhood; let them have this time to grow their imaginations, Katlee." John had told her, when she'd come up the stairs and found Sarah attempting to levitate a pencil off her desk one afternoon.

But it wasn't long until something caused Kathleen to discover there was something exceedingly unusual about her children. Not long after Sarah turned sixteen, things began to get... weird.

* * *

The music was the first thing that alerted the paramedic that something was off in her house. Having come home from working the morning shift, all Kathleen wanted was to curl into bed and sleep...

She slipped the key into the lock, turning it quickly and slipping into the house. The downstairs was silent; though the car Timothy had bought with his own money was in the driveway, there was no sign of either child. Since Tim had gone off to MIT at sixteen, Kathleen had kept a tight hold on her adoptive son, and an even tighter hold on her adoptive daughter. Not that she was paranoid, but she knew that at any moment, their carefully constructed story could become unraveled. She was cautious.

Laughter and music drew her attention to the stairs, and she slowly made her way to the second floor. She could hear Bono's famous Irish lilt, and after a moment, silently made her way towards Sarah's room. Through the slightly opened door, she could just make out Tim sitting on the bed, with Sarah standing not far from him, arms out as she spun in small circles. Her brother laughed, tucking the necklace he wore with the pearl back into his shirt.

"Do it again, Timmy, please!" She cried, taking a seat beside her brother.

"All right, all right, Sarah, just chill!" He laughed, and Kathleen felt the smile tug at her lips to see her children so happy. She listened as her son whispered something unintelligible, and then felt her eyes widen in surprise as a cry burst from her lips.

Flames danced from her son's fingertips, before bursting forth from his palms.


	4. Chapter 4

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

Neither child heard their mother, and after a moment, Tim extinguished the flames with a flick of his wrist.

Sarah giggled, before flexing her fingers and flicking her wrist; the books on her shelves rose, floating towards her, and after a moment, she twirled her index finger, causing each book to open. Kathleen watched in silence, having hurried to cover her mouth, as she leaned against the slightly opened door...

And promptly stumbled through it into her daughter's room.

The books shut and fell to the floor, and the sparks Tim had been conjuring between his hands died out, as both children turned to their mother. Sarah stood, kneeling down and grabbing the books now lying on the floor. "Mom! What... what are you... you're home early..."

"And... so are you, Timothy." Kathleen replied, turning to her son. "I thought... I thought winter holiday wasn't for another week."

"They... let us out early." He replied sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. "How.. how much of that did you see?" Kathleen raised an eyebrow, and her son sighed. "All of it?"

"All of it." A soft sigh escaped her throat, and she took a seat between her children on the bed. "When did this... start?" She gestured to the books Sarah had set on her desk. Tim glanced at his sister.

"In full? After I turned sixteen."

Sarah nodded. "Me, too."

"But... I think I've always been able to do things like this." He wrung his hands, not meeting his mother's gaze. "When the storm took the lights out when I was twelve and I went to get candles?" Kathleen nodded; she remembered that night. The storm had downed power lines for days. "I found the candles but no matches. And... all I thought about was... was wanting to find a light for the candles and..." Kathleen choked on a gasp as small flames flicked from her son's fingertips. "That was when I first realized what was happening."

"And... and it's only fire?"

Sarah shook her head. "No. We can do all sorts of things, Mama." Kathleen furrowed a brow. "Watch." The teenager pulled her legs up beneath her and cupped her hands. A moment passed, and soon, Kathleen was watching her only daughter hold a small galaxy within her cupped palms. It glowed and spun slowly, capturing Kathleen's attention. The paramedic leaned closer, studying it. There was no way what she was seeing was real... "Timmy can do it to, Mama, but he'd rather play with fire."

At that, their mother turned to her son, who had by then flicked his wrist, extinguishing the small flames and held up his hands in defense. "I'm not a pyromaniac, Mama, I swear." Slowly, Kathleen turned back to her daughter, watching as Sarah slowly closed her hands; when she opened them again, the small universe she'd held was gone.

A sigh escaped Kathleen's throat as she studied each of her children. "I have _no idea_ how we're going to explain this to your father."

* * *

To say that John McGee was surprised to discover his children could perform _magic_... was the biggest understatement of the century. It had taken a long talk, and several demonstrations before the good doctor would even consider believing what his family was telling him.

"We have no idea where they came from other than possibly Ireland, John. It's a very real possibility-"

"What, that our children could be from some... alternate dimension?" He continued setting the table.

" _No_. But... we know next to nothing about their childhood before they came to us. For all we know, their parents could have been practitioners of-"

"Witchcraft?" He stopped setting the table under Kathleen's glare. "What?"

"This is not _Harry Potter_." She replied, as Sarah and Tim entered the kitchen. Tim poured himself a cup of coffee and Sarah removed the lid from the cookie jar. Tim set his mug down, slipping in front of his sister to grab the bread for dinner, and Sarah groaned softly. A moment passed, before both Kathleen and John looked up to find the jar levitating off the counter. A single gingersnap floated out of the container before the lid returned and it settled back in its spot. Sarah reached out to grab it, when Tim beat her to it.

 _"Hey! 'twas mine!"_ Her brother chuckled, even as she punched him hard in the arm.

"Watch it, pipsqueak, unless you want the ends of your hair-" With a flex of his fingers, small flames danced once more, and Kathleen moved between her children, quickly breaking up the fight.

"That's enough, both of you." She snatched the cookie out of Tim's hand, and raised an eyebrow; the boy quickly flicked his wrist. "Now stop it. Let your father get... used to the idea." She bit into the gingersnap, and both children protested, as she returned to fixing dinner. "You both know the rules. No sweets before dinner. They'll ruin your appetite."

* * *

"How can you be so... accepting of this, Katlee?" She settled beside him on the sofa, a cup of coffee in her hands. Dinner had been a lively affair, with both Tim and Sarah explaining that from the time they were little, they'd been able to do things- but neither had realized what it'd meant. It was the one thing about their childhood before they came to the McGees that they really remembered- strange things would happen whenever they were around. And that as they'd gotten older, things had gotten stranger- if they thought about something, it would happen; if they whispered something under their breath, it came true. If they wanted something and couldn't get it, but thought about it, it would come to them.

"It's almost like... like we're... fairies or witches or something." Sarah had said over dinner. Tim had rolled his eyes.

"So what? Do you want to go to a special school, like Hogwarts?"

 _"If only Hogwarts existed!"_

John rubbed his temples. All these new revelations were giving him a headache. "So... what... our children are... magical?"

"Well they _do_ come from Ireland, dear. Ireland is known for its myth and magic." Unbeknownst to the couple, Tim and Sarah were sitting on the stairs, listening intently to their parents' conversation.

"You don't think they'll send us away, do you, Timmy?" He shook his head, wrapping an arm around his sister and pulling her close.

"No. Mom and Dad wouldn't do that. They wanted us too badly, there's no way they'd send us away. They love us."

"Even though we're freaks?" She curled into his side. Her brother sighed, kissing her hair.

"... yeah. Even though we're freaks."


	5. Chapter 5

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

It had taken time, but eventually John had come around; he saw this... magic or whatever it was, as just one more thing that made his children unique. It took time for them to learn how to fully control it; John discovered quickly that a raised temper often meant uncontrollable reactions- from the electricity going out to things rising from the ground. During one particularly heated argument between the siblings over dinner one night, Tim completely lost his temper, to the point where the pipes burst, flooding the house. He had paid for the repairs out of his own pocket.

And then there'd been the night Tim had come home from school at Kathleen's frantic phone call; they'd gone out in search of Sarah- the teenager had discovered her boyfriend was sleeping around on her, and she was found about midnight, having painted 'Bitch' on Katie Hutchinson's garage. She'd drug her feet, refusing to go home, until Tim had had to physically carry her over his shoulder- the slight Irish beauty had been so pissed, both for being caught and at discovering her boyfriend's betrayal, that as they'd passed through the front door, the glass in all the downstairs windows burst.

By the time they reached early adulthood, both had gained pretty good control of their powers; they acted like normal humans when in public, but behind closed doors... well, it wasn't uncommon for Kathleen or John to come home from work to find both Tim and Sarah at home from school, sitting on the sofa levitating a book or stirring the spoon in their coffee with a light twirl of a finger. Though it did get a little worrisome if tempers flared and something burst or went out.

John had even taken to calling both Tim and Sarah their 'fairy children'- similar to those tiny, mythical beings with spiderweb wings and possessing powers, cunning and manipulative, willing to give something for something offered in return. "The only thing they're missing are the wings and manipulative nature," according to John.

And then came the ever present pull of the sea; that they spent so much of their time by the water, running in it, swimming in it, as though they were mermaids- Perhaps it was the call of Ireland, their birthplace, that forced the siblings to return again and again to the beach... the forgotten memories slowly rolling in like the fog on the moors.

Tim had by this time, joined NCIS- a way to keep close to the sea and his family, for which Kathleen and John were both grateful. Not that they didn't want their children out on their own, but with everything that had gone on in the last few years, there was this small fear that something would happen and they would get hurt. For their part, neither Tim nor Sarah minded staying by the sea; it meant they could see each other, and their parents whenever they had time.

* * *

Kathleen awoke to the scent of coffee wafting through the house. Both she and John had the weekend off- a rarity for both- and so had decided to sleep in. But evidently, John had awoken like he was prone to do... But as Kathleen climbed out of bed, she was surprised to find John still sound asleep beside her. Silently, she rushed from the room, hurrying down the stairs into the kitchen.

Tim and Sarah sat at the table, cups of coffee before them, spoons stirring slowly in the mugs. They were engrossed in conversation and didn't hear their mother enter. A box of doughnuts sat on the table, and after a moment, Sarah took a bite of the one on her plate. She looked up. "Mama." Tim turned, a quick smile tugging at his lips as his mother joined them.

"Morning, Mom."

"What are you two doing here? It's Saturday-"

"I wanted to come down for the weekend." Sarah said, just as Tim added,

"We're off rotation this weekend figured I'd come down and visit."

Kathleen nodded, reaching into the box and removing a glazed. She set it on the plate before her, before getting up-

"We got it, Mama." Sarah said, flicking her wrist. Kathleen watched in silence as the coffeepot and a mug floated towards them. Once the mug sat on the table, the coffee poured, before turning to its place. Instantly, the older woman reached out and grabbed it, taking a sip.

"Thank you." The girl nodded, before returning to her conversation with her brother. Kathleen watched her children in silence. Both had grown up so much in the few short years since she and John had adopted them. Their hair had darkened to a rich, deep red, and the majority of freckles that had once covered their noses had faded slightly. Their thick Irish lilts were gone, except when they were either excited or upset. Timothy was close to six feet, and Sarah was roughly five foot four. They were beautiful, intelligent, successful adults, and Kathleen couldn't have felt prouder. She looked up as John wandered downstairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning, Dad." John looked up at the voices, surprised to see his children in the kitchen, though by now, the sight of the coffeepot levitating and spoons stirring on their own was nothing new. It would have been new if those things _hadn't_ been happening. As the family settled down to breakfast, a knock sounded at the front door, and Tim got up, moving through the living room to answer it.

"You expecting company, Dad?" Tim asked, but John shook his head. After quickly checking through the peephole, he opened the door, allowing the visitor entrance. "Penny." Sarah was up and out of her seat in seconds, once the older woman entered the house. Penelope Langston engulfed her granddaughter; in the kitchen, the spoons stopped stirring and the newspaper Tim had been flipping through fluttered back to the table. The older woman raised an eyebrow, and her grandchildren grinned sheepishly.

Penny had discovered her grandchildren's secret purely by accident, not long after Tim's fourteenth birthday. She had stopped by to visit her son and his family one fall afternoon, and had gone out back, to find Tim awkwardly levitating the leaves that lay scattered about the grass. Tim had begged her not to tell anyone, and after a long discussion, Penny had promised to keep the boy's secret. She would have kept it anyway; she had known, from the moment John and Kathleen had taken the children home, that there was something different about them.

Something special.

Then again, Penny knew all about special- her mother had been an Eclectic Witch, raised in the ways of witchcraft, and so had taught her daughter. And while Penny dabbled in spells and candle magic mainly, she recognized magic when she saw it. "I figured I'd come see how my darlings are doing." As she joined her family at the table, Tim's cell went off.

"McGee." Everyone looked back, recognizing the silence that followed. "I'll... be there in twenty, Boss." Once he hung up, he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on. "We got a missing persons case."

"Missing persons?"

Tim nodded. "Something about... a couple kids disappearing."

"You don't investigate missing persons, though-"

"Not unless they're connected to the Navy."

"Are they?" Kathleen asked. Tim sighed, grabbing his keys as Kathleen joined him.

"From what I could gather from Gibbs... no."

"You'll be home for dinner? It's been too long since our family's been together."

He pressed a kiss to her cheek before slipping out the door. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, Mom."


	6. Chapter 6

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

"Sorry I'm late, Boss, traffic was-" Tim stopped in the entrance to the bullpen, finding his coworkers staring at him. "What? What are you all staring at me for?" But as he made his way towards his desk, he realized why.

Up on the plasma were two computer generated sketches- one that looked just like Sarah, and one that looked just like him.

* * *

Tim glanced from the image on the screen to his boss and back. "What... is this? Some... some sort of... sick joke?"

"Wish it was, Probie." Tony replied, taking a seat at his own desk. He watched in silence as Tim moved towards the plasma, studying the images before him. Both images possessed the same green eyes he and Sarah did, with the same red hair. Beside the computer generated sketches, were bits of information- name, age, height and weight at time of abduction, birth date, any distinguishing birthmarks and the like- and he quickly scanned over both.

"This has to be some sort of cruel joke."

"It's not." Ziva replied as Tim joined her. She glanced at him; he smelled faintly of the sea, as though he'd spent the last couple hours swimming in it. A quick once over told her that he hadn't gone swimming, probably just walking along the shore, as he was so prone to do. Over the two years since she joined the team, Ziva had taken to McGee faster than anyone else, and she'd developed a... well, a crush, if she were honest with herself. They had gotten to be good friends, and Ziva hoped that they could one day become something more.

"Who filed these?"

"You mean when." Tony replied, getting up and joining them. "They were filed back in the fall of eighty-nine, by a Margaret- Molly- Phillips, just outside of Kinvara, Ireland. Her husband, Richard was a Navy Lieutenant at the time, born in Alameda, California. He met Molly when they were teenagers, and the two eloped. Molly was a singer-songwriter, and had quite a lucrative career. Their son Jack was born in seventy-nine, and a daughter, Fiona, followed in eighty-one. Molly said that the last time she saw the kids, they had gone out to play, and she'd told them to be back before the 'fog rolled in', whatever that means. She and Rick filed a missing persons report as soon as they realized the kids had never returned, and the coast and moors were searched, but no luck. It's like they vanished into thin air. They haven't been seen since."

"It's speculated that... the wee folk hide within the fog when it rolls in."

"Wee folk?" Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Fairies." Ziva filled in. "How did you know that about the fog?"

"I read." He replied, shrugging. "How old... would these kids be... now?"

"If they're still alive, in their late teens or early twenties." Tony replied; he and Ziva both noticed how Tim seemed to avoid the photos, even though the resemblance between himself and the age-progressed photograph of Jack Phillips was striking. _Near identical._ Tony told himself.

* * *

"You didn't have to come back with me, Ziva, it's _just_ family dinner."

"I do not mind, Tim. Besides, I have never met your family- other than Sarah." She shifted the folder in her arms; she and Tim had planned on going over the case, see if they could find any leads. After work, she and Tim usually went out for drinks, enjoying each others' company and poking fun at Tony. Tonight, however, Tim had told her that he'd have to skip drinks in favor of dinner at his parents' house. Ziva, having already met Sarah, asked if she could join him. Not so much because she wanted to intrude- "Besides, it's nice being surrounded by other people on occasion."

Tim nodded, understanding. She was lonely. "I'll ask Mom to set another place at the table. I don't think they'll mind."

He quickly unlocked the door, poking his head in to make sure everything was normal- or as normal as their family could get. Once he was certain, he pushed the door opened, removing his coat and hanging it on the hook by the door. Helping Ziva out of hers, he did the same with it before heading into the kitchen. "You're home early, Timothy."

"Would it be all right if we set an extra place at the table? I brought-"

"Ziva!" Both Tim and Kathleen looked up as Sarah bounded down the stairs and made her way towards the Israeli. The older woman quickly embraced the younger girl, hiding her surprise at how much Sarah McGee looked like the computer composite of Fiona Phillips.

"I hope that's okay, Mom." Kathleen smiled, at the sight of the two women.

"It's perfectly fine, Tim." She replied, gently patting his cheek.

* * *

Dinner was a lively affair; Ziva was glad she had been allowed to stay. It was nice being with a family again, even if the family wasn't hers. She listened as, over pasta and salad, Sarah told them about what she'd learned in class that day, and how things had gone at the hospital. And then, over cherry pie and coffee, Sarah brought up the file Ziva had brought with her.

"It's... the case we got called in for today. A missing persons case. Two children."

The table quieted down quickly.

"That's horrible." Kathleen whispered. "How old?"

Ziva got up, going into the living room and returning with the folder. She opened it, holding out the flyers she'd printed that afternoon and added to the file. "Jack and Fiona Phillips, ages ten and eight; went missing from Kinvara, Ireland in the fall of eighty-nine. There's been no trace of them since."

"How did you guys end up with it?" Sarah asked, sipping her coffee.

"Their dad is an American Navy Lieutenant. He sent Gibbs the information, asked us to look into it." As Ziva spoke, Kathleen let her gaze wander to the composites laid out before her. Her eyes widened in shock, and she felt her heart stall.

 _Those are... dear God, those are my children._


	7. Chapter 7

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

"Thank you for letting me stay for dinner, Tim. It was nice."

He smiled softly at her. "No problem, Ziva. Let me know when you get back." She nodded, squeezing his hand, before leaning up and brushing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Tim."

Once she was gone, Tim slipped back into the house. Sarah was sitting by the fireplace; with a flick of her wrist, flames began to dance in the grate. "How is she?" His sister looked up at him, knowing instantly what he was asking.

"She hasn't moved, Timmy. I'm worried."

With a kiss to his sister's head, he made his way into the kitchen, taking a seat beside her at the table. "Mom? Mom, are you okay? Mom." Gently, he reached out and laid a hand on her arm, shaking it gently. "Mama?"

Slowly, Kathleen pulled her gaze from the images, turning to her son. She smiled softly, but Tim could tell it was forced. He glanced at the composites. Before she'd left, he'd told Ziva that he'd look over them, try to get a head start on the search, and so she'd left them, unaware of the real reason he asked to keep the folder for the night. After a moment, Kathleen turned her gaze back to the flyers, drinking in everything on the papers she could see.

The computer image was an exact replica of the young man sitting beside her- from the green of his eyes to the freckles across his nose. Though in the image his hair was redder than theirs was, it was still Tim, still her son. She swallowed, tears coming to her eyes as she read through the information.

 _Name: Jack Richard Phillips_

 _Born: 13 September 1979_

 _Age at time of Disappearance: 10_

 _Height: 4.5"_

 _Weight: 5 stone_

 _Distinguishing features:_

"Mama?" Kathleen looked up, her gaze torn from the list of distinguishing features before she could even read the first word. "Are you gonna be okay? You're scaring us." A soft sigh escaped her throat, as she felt John's hand on her shoulder, and after a moment, she reached up to cover his hand with hers. Sarah had since joined them in the kitchen; she'd fixed a cup of tea for her mother, and was adding sugar to the cup, with a slight spin of her finger, the spoon began to stir.

"I just... I've always been afraid this day would come. The last thing I wanted was... was this to catch up with your father and I."

The kids shared a glance, confused and now utterly worried, as Kathleen picked up the mug and removed the spoon.

"What... 'day', Mama?" Sarah asked, sliding into a chair across from her mother. Tim sat beside Kathleen, flexing his fingers and watching the small flames dance from his fingertips absentmindedly. A big part of him didn't want to hear what she was going to tell them, but a small part knew that he had no choice; he and Sarah needed to know.

"We don't have to tell them, do we, John?" She turned, meeting her husband's gaze. The good doctor sighed, rubbing his forehead before moving away from his wife and moving to lean back against the counter.

"They deserve to know the truth, Katlee." He whispered; that sent his wife shooting from the table towards him. She shook her head.

"No. They know the truth, John. They know that we love them, and always have, and always will, and that they're ours- that's all the truth they need-"

But her husband reached out and took her hands. "They need the truth, Katlee. The _real_ truth."

"All I wanted was to be a mother, and you're taking it away-" Tears raced down her cheeks, and gently, he reached up, brushing them away.

"I'm not taking it away, Kat. I could never take it away. But they need to know how they ended up with us. They need to understand why we did what we did all those years ago. Why we took them-"

"Wait, a minute- took? As in... _stole_?" Sarah cried, climbing to her feet. Tim looked up from the flames dancing on his fingertips, solemn. " _You_ _stole us_?"

Kathleen turned to her daughter, shaking her head. "No. No, we adopted you, both of you. If we hadn't, you would have ended up in the foster system, and the American foster care system is Hell on earth, trust me. I grew up in foster care, I would never want a child to experienced what I experienced." She sniffled, gaze going to Tim, who slowly raised his head, meeting her gaze. "Do... do you remember how you ended up here?"

Their son raised an eyebrow, glancing at his sister. After a moment,

"We ended up on a beach in New Hampshire-"

"Hampton." Kathleen filled in, watching as Tim flexed his fingers, the small flames growing slightly bigger. A moment passed, before he curved his fingers in; the flames seemed to jump from his fingertips, until they danced in the center of his hand. Without a word, he took his other hand and seemed to cup the flames; they danced and sparked, reminding her of the fireflies she used to chase as a child. "Soaking wet and... with no memory to speak of. Couldn't even tell us how old you were or where you came from. Had the thickest Irish accents I'd ever heard." She smiled softly. "We took you home, told Social Services that we would look after you both until they decided what to do with you."

"So... we're foster care kids?"

Kathleen shook her head. "You never went into the system. John and I... we were able to persuade Social Services to let us keep you, and because your case was one of thousands, they agreed. And then it came up that Social Services was looking to adopt you both out; one less kid to have to find a foster for." She scoffed gently. "So we petitioned to adopt you- you were happy with us, and we had what we always wanted- a family."

"So we're adopted?"

"Of course we're adopted, Sarah. We've always known we've been adopted; Mom and Dad never bothered hiding that from us. Besides, it's fairly _obvious_ we don't look like either of them- what with our red hair and all."

"Hush, Timmy." The young agent rolled his eyes, flicking his wrist and extinguishing the flames. Kathleen watched as her son blew softly into his hands; small stars twinkled within his cupped hands. They danced and sparked, glowing in the darkness that also filled his palms. She smiled softly at her oldest child. Tim was right, they had always made sure to let them know that even though they were adopted, they loved them both the same as if they'd been born of their blood.

"We wanted a family so badly." Kathleen whispered. "But... we had no idea who you were, we didn't know where you'd come from, so... one of your Uncle Patrick's buddies in the Navy, he... he built profiles on you from what you could remember and then filled in everything else. We fudged the truth on your school records because we didn't know if you'd even _had_ schooling, so we told the school that you'd been in the system and your records had gotten lost. When we adopted you, it was the happiest day of our lives-" She stopped, unable to continue.

"So... our whole lives... they're nothing but... but one big... _lie_?" Sarah whispered, dropping into the chair across from her brother. She reached out, pulling the second composite computer image towards her. Her own eyes stared back at her, and she quickly skimmed the information.

 _Name: Fiona Mackenzie Phillips_

 _Born: 10 October 1981_

 _Age at time of Disappearance: 8_

"I don't understand. Who are Fiona and Jack Phillips? Are... are they supposed to be... us?" She met Tim's gaze, before turning to her parents. "Is this supposed to be us?"

Her brother sighed, closing his palms and extinguishing the stars that had danced within his palm. He flexed his fingers again, causing the small flames to appear at the tips of his fingers. "Its the case the team is working. Two missing children of a Navy Lieutenant and his wife from Kinvara, Ireland. The Navy Lieutenant was born in Alameda, California, and had been in the Navy from the time he was eighteen. He wants NCIS to look into his children's case."

"But they look-"

"Like you." Kathleen whispered, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. "We never meant to hurt either of you like this-"

"You haven't hurt us, Mom, just... lied to us for the last... twelve years or so of our lives." Tim replied, flexing his fingers more and watching the flames grow, as Sarah got up, grabbing her coat and leaving the house; a couple lights short-circuited as the door slammed behind her. After a moment, the young man turned to meet his mother's gaze. "What do you expect us to do, Mom? Forgive and forget?"

She shook her head. "I don't expect anything from either of you. We just... we gave you a life that you needed at that time-" She was surprised when Tim flicked his wrist and then got up, going to her and wrapping his arms around her. Tim wasn't as hot-headed as his darling baby sister.

"We know, Mom. Just give Sarah time. She'll come around eventually." Kathleen buried her face in her son's shoulder, hoping what he said was true.


	8. Chapter 8

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Happy Very, Very, _Very_ Belated Thanksgiving to you and your families from me and mine.- Licia **

**A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

She walked along the beach, her shoes dangling from her hands. She couldn't believe that their parents had lied to both her and her brother.

 _Lied to them!_

 _Completely and absolutely lied to them-_

Letting out a huff of annoyance, she dropped into the sand, pulling her knees underneath her and putting her head in her hands. "How could they do that? How could they just... just..." She kicked at the sand in aggravation, letting out an shriek of annoyance.

Something poked its head out of the water.

When Sarah looked up next, she found a pair of green eyes staring back at her from the waves. She gasped softly, scampering back quickly, when the one watching her lifted its head out of the water.

" _Dinna_ mean _t' fright'n ye_." She swam a little closer.

 _"You!"_ Without a moment's hesitation, Sarah shifted to her hands and knees, crawling towards the waters edge. "What are you doing here?"

She swam closer. "Came _t'_ check on _ye_. Make sure _ye an' yer broth'r_ are _alrigh'_."

Sarah smiled softly, touched that this creature- for though she looked human, she clearly wasn't- cared enough to check up on her and her brother, even years later. She didn't _know_ how she knew the creature; in the back of her mind, buried deep within the recesses of her missing memories, she knew the connection she and her brother had to this.. thing, that it had to do possibly with before they came to the McGees, but she wasn't entirely sure. She just knew that she had seen it- _her_ \- in the waves occasionally when she and Tim would come to the beach, and something in her heart told her that she wouldn't hurt them. Would never hurt them. Something told Sarah that this... thing... maybe even _loved_ them.

 _"An' yer broth'r?"_

A sigh escaped Sarah's lips, and she sat back. "He's..." The girl trailed off. After a quick shake of her head, Sarah sat back, absentmindedly wiggling her fingers. A moment passed before water appeared within her palm; she then proceeded to shape the water with a wiggle of her fingers; a fish shaped out of water soon swam within her palm.

Silent, she swam closer, eyes widening at the sight before her. _Her powers... tha' means-_ " _An' yer broth'r_?" She nodded towards the fish in Sarah's hand. The girl looked up at her. A quizzical look passed over her face briefly, before,

"Oh, these? Yeah. Both Tim and I have powers."

A small smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. "When?"

The girl seemed to think for a moment before, "We both started... noticing weird things happening not long after we came to the McGees, but... I guess... they fully 'manifested' or whatever when we each turned sixteen." Sarah replied. She waited for a look of surprise, but there was none. "Did you know? That... that we have... powers?"

Slowly, she nodded. " _Aye_. We are _o'_ the same magic, us three."

"What type of magic?"

A sigh escaped her throat. How did she even begin to explain?

* * *

"They're never going to forgive us, John." Tim had since slipped out to find Sarah, though he knew exactly where she'd gone, leaving his parents in the kitchen. Kathleen took a deep breath, reaching up to brush a strand away from her eyes. Tim had been silent through practically the whole story; so unlike his little sister, who was so hotheaded, it was a wonder they were even related by blood. He hadn't said much in regards to criticisms, they were more along the lines of smart-assed little comments, not unusual for his age.

"They'll forgive us, Katlee, just give them time." He replied, reaching out and resting a hand on her shoulder. She reached up, covering his hand with hers as she sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in her hands. "It's a lot for them to take in right now." He took a seat beside her. "They handled it a lot better than I thought they would, actually. I was expecting something to blow up or explode or short circuit." He chuckled softly, and Kathleen couldn't help the smile. "Because whenever they've lost their tempers, that's what happened-"

"It's normal for us." She whispered, sipping her coffee. A sigh escaped her throat, and she sniffled, feeling the tears sliding down her cheeks. "What happens now, John? What if we lose them?"

"We're not going to lose them, Katlee."

"But what if we do?"

He reached up, turning her to face him. "What are they going to do, Kat? Runaway? They're both grown adults, they're too old to run away. And they wouldn't do that to us anyway, you know that. Both Tim and Sarah stick close to home."

She shook her head, twisting her wedding ring. "No John, I... I have a bad feeling about... I can't explain it. I just... I have a really bad feeling and I can't describe it. I just... I know it has something to do with Timothy and Sarah..."

"Mother's intuition?" She met his gaze.

* * *

He rushed down to the beach, seeing her sitting on the shore. "Sarah!"

She turned, watching as her brother hurried to join her. "Timmy-"

"Don't disappear like that, I-" But he stopped, surprised to find himself being watched from the waves. A wave of confusion passed over his features briefly, and she backed up, fear clenching her heart that he had spent so long in the human world that he had forgotten even the very barest of memories of his past. After a moment, however, the recognition- however light- dawned, and he swallowed. "Y... you. You..."

" _Ye 'ave_ grown so."

"She's been watching over us."

"What do you mean, Sarah?" The girl opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't think of a word, not that Tim gave her much chance. "I work for NCIS- it's this agency that..." He stopped when she raised an eyebrow. "Never mind. Our current case is about a Navy lieutenant's two missing children. Children that... that look an awful lot like Sarah and I." He stopped, saw her swallow thickly. "They're names were Jack and Fiona Phillips. Do... do you know anything about..." She turned away. "You know."

Sarah turned to her brother, shocked, as he took a seat beside her. "Timmy!"

"You know something about them, don't you?"

A moment passed, before she nodded. " _Aye_ , I do."

"What do you know?"

Slowly, she reached up, reaching for something that normally dangled around her throat, but that was no longer there. Not the starbursts she had given them long ago, but something else, something even more precious. After a moment, she slowly returned her gaze to the children. _No, they are no' chil'ren anymore._

"Please, tell me."

She swam closer, until she was within the shallows. " _Wha'ever_ names _ye 'ave_ taken now are _no' yer_ own. _Th'_ names _ye_ once bore are _old'r_ than any name _ye_ could dream _o'_ now."

"I don't understand." Sarah whispered, confused.

"Jack _an'_ Fiona Phil-lips," She stuttered over the names, foreign on her tongue as they were. "were _th'_ names _she_ gave _ye_."

"Who?" Tim asked, studying her. Tears came to her eyes and slowly, she raised her gaze to meet his.

"Her. _Th'_ one _'ho_ took _ye_ from-" She swallowed, letting the tears slip down her cheeks.

"Take your time." Sarah whispered, wiggling her fingers and making the fish disappear before she reached out, wanting to comfort her.

" _She_ took _wha' th'_ _wee_ folk stole from me, in retaliation _fo' wha'_ I stole from them." Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks as she studied them. _'ow they've grown so._

Tim reached out, stopping Sarah from tumbling into the water and getting soaked. "What did they steal from you, _exactly_?" He asked, confused. She met his gaze, lifting her head as she breathed,

" _Ye. Th' wee_ folk stole _ye_ both from me."


	9. Chapter 9

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

 _"What?"_ Sarah stumbled back, shocked; her brother could hear the anger in her voice, and he swallowed. _"What do you mean we were stolen from... you? You're not our mother! We barely know you! Is this some sort of sick joke-"_

"Oh no, here we go." Tim mumbled as the wind began to whip and the water got harsher as it crashed against the shore. He should have known that Sarah would lose her temper, but this... this was one reaction he wasn't prepared for. For her part, the woman- their mother, as she'd told them- didn't seem at all phased by the change in the weather; it was like she'd gone through it before. "Sarah-"

 _"You know what, why don't you just... just go away! Just leave us alone, you liar! You-"_ Lightning began to split the sky, and thunder rolled overhead, unbeknownst to Sarah. _"You're just like Gibbs! Trying to get us to... to do whatever you want without letting us make up our minds! We're not stolen, you're not our mother, Mom is! Go away! Leave us alone!"_

With one last glance at her son that spoke volumes, _when ye're ready t' 'ccept yer true selves, I'll retu'n_ , she ducked back beneath the waves and disappeared.

Tim stood, rushing after her. "No, wait! She didn't mean it-" But by the time he'd reached where she'd been, she was gone, and he was half drenched. He turned back to Sarah, eyes blazing and fingers sparking. With a growl of annoyance, he charged at his sister, knocking her over into the sand. The wind got worse and the clouds broke into a storm as he held her down, kicking and screaming. _"How could you do that! We were finally about to get some answers! What the hell is wrong with you, Sarah?"_

 _"Get off me!"_

 _"No! Not until you tell me what in God's name you were thinking!"_ She went limp, gaze moving to the sand she was lying on. "You weren't, were you? _You weren't thinking at all!_ " The storm stopped and the sea calmed. Then, without a word, he stood, yanking his sister up and walking her back to their parents' house.

* * *

Kathleen opened the door to find her children drenched through to the skin.

"I take it you two were the cause for the sudden storm." She sighed. "Well, hurry inside. Change out of those wet clothes before you both get sick. Go on." Tim gently pushed Sarah into the house; the girl sulked over to the fireplace, plopping onto the floor, arms crossed over her chest. Once the door was closed behind them, Kathleen made her way to the linen closet; she pulled out two fleece blankets and returned to the living room. Tim had grabbed the duffel from his trunk and slipped off to change, but Sarah hadn't moved. Sighing, Kathleen unfolded one of the blankets, draping it over her daughter's shoulders before taking a seat beside her on the floor. "Want to tell me what happened out there on the beach?"

The girl glanced at her mother out of the corner of her eye. They sat in silence for several minutes before Kathleen stood, going into the kitchen, making it clear she wasn't going to wait for Sarah to stop pouting. But just as she crossed the threshold into the kitchen, her daughter's voice stopped her. "We met our mother."

Kathleen turned back; Tim was coming downstairs, drying his hair with a towel, and John had stopped fixing the coffee he'd poured. "I... I'm sorry, what did you say, Sarah?"

It was then that the younger woman turned to meet her mother's gaze. "Timmy and I. We met our... our mother at the beach today."

"I... that... that's not possible." Kathleen glanced at her son, who remained silent. "Your 'mother' is supposedly in Ireland-"

"Apparently, Molly Phillips isn't our real mother either." Tim whispered.

* * *

"I'm sorry, I'm confused. If Molly Phillips isn't your real mother, then... who _is_?"

They had settled around the dining table, cups of steaming coffee in front of them. Sarah was slowly stirring the coffee in her cup with a steady, focused twirl of her finger; it was easier than looking at their mother.

Wait. Was Kathleen their mother? Sure, she'd raised them from the time they showed up on that beach, loved them and given them anything they asked, taught them both the value of hard work and the value of strong family connections, but did that really mean they were a _family_? But before she could ask, her brother spoke up.

"We don't know."

"What do you mean you _don't_ _know_? If you don't know her, how can she be your mother?" John demanded. The kids had handed him a lot of crazy things in the last few years- from having no memory of who they were, to having magical powers, to the discovery that they were actually children missing for decades, but _this_? That they had _another_ mother besides Molly Phillips back in Ireland, who didn't even have a name, according to them-

"Because she told us."

Kathleen snorted. "That doesn't _mean_ anything. Agent Gibbs could tell you he was your father if he wanted to."

Tim sighed, rolling his wrist. He turned his hand palm up and flexed his fingers; a small storm began to brew a couple inches over his hand. In an instant, a small bolt of lightning shot down into his palm from the stormy clouds, and after a moment, he took a deep breath, blowing lightly on the storm cloud. Sarah watched from across the table as the cloud blew her way, turning into snow as it did. She wrinkled her nose, wiping snowflakes out of her face and off her nose with a glare at her brother. "She always comes from the sea."

"I'm... I'm sorry?" He turned green eyes to Kathleen.

"Our... real mother. She comes from the sea. We see her when we're at the beach."

"So she lives here somewhere." Kathleen reasoned. "Is that-"

"No, I mean she _literally_ comes from the sea, Mom."

"Like a mermaid?" John offered, slowly understanding what his wife wasn't understanding.

"A mermaid? Maybe." Sarah replied, suddenly excited at the prospect of being half mermaid. Tim shook his head, playing with the flames that had appeared in his palm.

"No. Something older, Sarah. Like a... siren or a naiad or something. Something _much, much_ older."


	10. Chapter 10

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

She poked her head out of the water, but they were gone. She knew they would be, but still-

A sigh escaped her throat, and she reached up to grasp at her neck. _They are no' there. She took them, jus' like she took yer babes._ Slowly, she lowered her hand, looking about the beach sprawled out before her before ducking back beneath the water.

How did she even begin to explain to them exactly what they were, what _she_ was? How did she make them understand that she wasn't out to hurt them, she just wanted them back, because they were her children? That she had begged the gods for one final wish before being dragged beneath the sea by the sirens, all those centuries ago?

How could she even begin to weave a tale as strange as hers, and make it not sound like such a... such a... myth? They would never believe it. She herself had barely believed, and she had lived it.

As she returned, she could feel her skin returning; it slid over her human form like the softest of silk. She could sense the others' eyes on her, but she ignored them. They knew better than to question where she'd been. They knew how it had affected her, and so left her alone, as she wished. The pain had gotten more tolerable over the years, especially since she'd been able to watch them from afar, after they arrived at... well, she wasn't sure who the couple were, but she knew they loved them. Knew they'd taken care of them; because she'd seen the woman walking along the beach that day-

 _And ye were able t' get them away from her._

She swallowed, anger rising in her veins; if she ever saw the woman who stole her children from her again, she'd kill her.

* * *

Ziva looked up as Tim entered the bullpen on Monday morning; Tony opened his mouth to make some smart remark, but the look on the other agent's face stopped him and he snapped his mouth shut; Sarah followed behind her brother, backpack slung over her shoulder. "Morning, McGee- what is Sarah doing here? Doesn't she have school?" But the siblings ignored her. Tim set his bag behind his desk, Sarah doing the same. He then pulled her around the partition beside his desk.

Tony and Ziva shared a glance, as the siblings appeared to be arguing, though in what language, they couldn't tell. Ziva could make out Arabic, but she was unsure of the other languages, and occasionally, one of them would wave their hands in the air as though unable to contain their excitement or anger. A moment passed, before Sarah said something, and Tim made a quick motion with his hands- sign language, Ziva realized, but not American.

Sarah scoffed, pushing past her brother and making her way to his desk to grab her bag, when Tim grabbed her wrist. He said something quickly in another language, and Sarah yanked her arm away, temper rising. She snapped at him in a mixture of Arabic and another language, and then both siblings jumped as the plasma between Tony and Tim's desk short circuited and then exploded. Tony's eyes widened, and Ziva rose from her seat, concerned not so much about the TV, but that Sarah had gotten hurt; she'd been standing so close to it after all.

But before either agent could do anything, Tim rolled his eyes and grabbed his sister's arm. He muttered something beneath his breath and yanked her out of the bullpen towards the elevator. As the siblings stepped inside- not even glancing at Gibbs as the Team Leader exited- Tony turned back to Ziva. "What the hell was that? Did you see the TV? It just exploded! Like something out of a Bond movie!"

But Ziva wasn't listening; her attention was on the elevator and the siblings inside.

* * *

"It's not a good idea, Timmy!"

Her brother slammed the side of his hand against the button, sending the doors closing, before flicking the switch. "And why not, Sarah? You want to know just as badly as I do, where we come from!"

"I _know where we come from, Timmy_! We come from Richmond, Virginia. Kathleen and John McGee are our parents. Penny is our grandmother. Isn't that enough?"

He shook his head. "No. Not that. That's what our records say, but not where we really come from. _God, Sarah, we're from somewhere in Ireland! We may not even be human, for God's sake! And your little stunt with the plasma nearly gave us away!"_

She leaned back against the door, tears in her eyes, and he knew he'd struck a chord. Unlike Tim, who was so laid back it was scary, Sarah had a more difficult time suppressing her temper. Oftentimes, it had been her that had caused something to blow up or burst in the McGee household, because she couldn't control her temper, and the fact that her brother inadvertently flaunted his ability to control his, that made the fights between them look like world war three.

He sighed, seeing her begin to cry. "Sarah, I'm sorry, I just-"

"I don't want to leave."

"What?"

"I don't want to leave Mama and Daddy, Timmy."

" _What?_ Where _in hell_ did you get that-"

Sarah sniffled, reaching up to wipe at her nose. "If we get that DNA test done, and it proves we're the Phillips kids, we'll have to leave Mama and Daddy. I don't want to leave them." Her brother sighed, finally understanding. After a moment, he went to her, pulling her into a hug.

"Nobody's leaving anybody, Sarah. I promise." He kissed her head and then pulled away to look at her. "How 'bout this? We get the test done, but we don't look at the results; like a modern day Schroedinger's Cat. That sound better?" She nodded, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead before flicking the switch. "Let's go get it done by another lab." He stepped out, taking her hand. Gibbs and the others looked up. "Sorry Boss, I won't be staying today. Family emergency."

And before anyone could object, the siblings had grabbed their bags and raced back to the elevator.

* * *

Kathleen breathed in the salt of the sea, sandals in hand. Having swapped shifts with Louisa, because the latter had to have surgery in two days, meant that she had the day off. Instead of sleeping in, she went to the beach. As a child growing up in the system, Kathleen had always dreamed of living near the beach. When she'd aged out of the system, she moved to San Francisco and attended college, eventually becoming a paramedic and moving to Manchester, New Hampshire, where she'd met John.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she reached down to rest a hand against her abdomen. All she had ever wanted was to be married and have children... and one stupid college party had taken it away. Her friends had told her Nick was trouble, warned her to stay far away, but she hadn't listened. Her naivete had been rewarded with a social disease that had robbed her of the chance of ever having children.

She looked up, dragged from her thoughts as her gaze went out into the waves. She couldn't help but feel as though she were being watched. Minutes passed, before she found herself staring into a pair of green eyes. Slowly, the person lifted their head, moving closer. They stopped, watching as she slowly set her sandals down and stepped into the water, kneeling down and crawling forward slowly. Once only a couple feet apart- for they had moved closer to avoid her possibly being swept out to sea- the two locked eyes.

"Who-" Kathleen watched the person lift their head out of the water. Recognition flitted through their features,

" _Ye're_ the one _'ho's_ taken care _o' me chil'ren_."

Slowly, Kathleen nodded. "And you must be-" She stopped, unable to say the words. _No, she's not their mother, you are._

The other understood what she couldn't say, and said it for her, softly, seeing the breaking of her heart reflected in Kathleen's eyes. "Their mother."


	11. Chapter 11

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

"What do we do now, Timmy?"

Her brother sighed before starting the engine of his car. "We wait for the results. Hopefully they won't be anything too horrendous." They sat in silence before he turned to her. "Wanna go get breakfast?"

"Tea by the Sea?" He chuckled; the small cafe by the beach was their favorite spot.

"Sounds good to me."

As Sarah sat back and fiddled with the radio, Tim backed the car out of the parking lot, and took off down the street. Neither were unaware that the lab had taken the address down wrong.

* * *

Kathleen sat back on her heels. "I... I don't understand, how can _you_ possibly be-" She stopped; she refused to say the words. _Because if you say them, that means it could all be real._

"But I am."

Their eyes locked again, and Kathleen realized that she was in just as much turmoil as she herself was. If all this was true, then this... woman... had suffered just as Kathleen was now, only her pain had been deeper, more shattering. But there was a high possibility that she would get her children back, and Kathleen would lose the children she had raised and loved for the last-

The paramedic choked on a sob, and reached up to brush the tears from her cheeks; she moved closer, reaching out and gently brushing her thumb against the other woman's cheek. Such a tender moment, shared between two women over their shared children... _Almost like that Biblical story of the two women fighting over the baby._ Kathleen sighed.

"Please, don't take them from me. I love them. They're my children."

"They're my _chil'ren_ , too." She whispered, tears clogging her voice. "They _'ave_ been away from me too long."

Kathleen shook her head. "I'm their _mother_. _Please_."

She sighed; she understood the heartbreak this woman was going through. She had suffered for years- centuries, really- the heartbreak of losing her children. Her only consolation had been being able to watch them grow up from afar, but it was time for them to come home. That was one rule she couldn't break, no matter how this woman begged. "I _'ave_ no choice. _'tis_ not my rule, _bu'_ theirs. I _canna_ break it."

" _Whose_ rule?" Kathleen asked. "Who _are_ you?"

She opened her mouth to speak, when laughter caught her attention; Kathleen turned, following her gaze. It was them, walking along the beach, cups of coffee in their hands. A moment passed, before he waved to them, and then grabbed her arm, pulling his sister with him down the beach. "Mom! Mama!"

* * *

Abby quickly signed for and took the package. Once again alone in her lab, she slowly opened the package, and wasn't surprised to find the results from a DNA test.

 _Gibbs must have everyone working on a new case. But why would he have another lab do it instead of me? I do all the lab results, he knows that._

But what confused her was the fact that she'd heard nothing about a new case; from what Ziva had told her when she came down earlier, was that it was a cold case day- because all possible leads on the missing Phllips children had dried up at the moment. The Israeli had also mentioned something about Tim having left work because of a family emergency, and she'd seemed worried about him. It was evident that Ziva had a crush on Tim; had been from the moment she officially joined the team two years earlier.

She sighed, and began setting up the results, making sure to pull them up on the computer. "Wait- what?" She checked it again, before pulling out the slip of paper that came with it.

 _McGee, Timothy and McGee, Sarah_

These were Tim and Sarah's DNA results. But why? Unless they were trying to find their real parents- because it was well known that the McGee siblings were adopted. That must be it, they were searching for their real parents-

She turned back to the results, and shook her head, unable to believe her eyes. She may not have done the tests, but even she knew this had to be a mistake. Without another word, she rushed off to get Gibbs.

* * *

A smile tugged at Kathleen's lips and she stood, nearly loosing her footing as Sarah slammed into her. "What are you two doing here? You're supposed to be at school, young lady. And you," She reached out, tugging Tim towards her. "Are supposed to be at work."

"We took the day off." Tim whispered, hugging his mother quickly before pulling away.

"We actually got labs done today." Sarah replied, pulling away from her mother and pushing up the sleeve of her shirt, revealing the bandage holding the cotton ball down at the crevice of her elbow. Kathleen instantly became concerned.

"Are you both okay? You aren't sick, are you?"

Tim shook his head. "No, Mom, we just... we decided to get a DNA test done." Kathleen furrowed a brow,

"What for?"

"What is a D-N-A test?" The trio turned, and both Tim and Sarah's gazes widened at the sight of her in the water.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

 _"Sarah!"_

But Kathleen quickly put an end to the impending argument. "We've been... talking." She nodded. "You never told me your name."

She bit her lip, glancing at her children. How could she possibly tell this... outsider? A name was sacred; it was all you carried with you in the world- _Bu' she 'as raised yer chil'ren. She is a part o' them, whether ye like it or no'. She deserves to know as much yer babes do._ Taking a deep breath, she rose slightly out of the water and lifted her chin.

"Avianna."

Tim and Sarah shared a glance. Kathleen moved closer. "Avi-"

"My name is Avianna. I'm-" She swallowed, and after a moment, rose even higher out of the water. Her long, dark red hair tumbled down her chest and back, and Kathleen could see strange markings upon her skin- spots that almost resembled tattoos. Taking a deep breath, she rose a little higher out of the water, kneeling down to pick something up at her feet. She held it against her body like a towel, and took a shaky step towards them, long dark hair tumbling down her back.

On instinct, Tim reached out, allowing her to take his hand and help her onto the beach. She gave him a grateful smile, before holding the thing closer to her body. Kathleen studied it from where she stood. It almost resembled... a skin of some sort. "You're a- a sel-"

Once back on solid ground- as solid as a beach could get- she turned to Kathleen and the children, nodding. Tucking a strand behind her ear, she whispered,

"My name is Avianna. I'm a selkie, _bu'_ I am more than _tha'_. I'm _wha's_ known in the world o' myth now as a selkie witch."


	12. Chapter 12

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

Kathleen couldn't believe what she was seeing. This... woman... creature... _thing_... that claimed to be her children's mother was now standing before them, holding her... her... _skin_ against her body, as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

"A... a selkie? You're a..." Her legs gave out and she crumpled to the sand, unaware of what she was seeing.

"Mom! Mama!"

"No, I... I'm okay, I'm okay. I just..." Kathleen propped an arm on her knee and rested her head in her hand. "It's just a shock."

They were silent for several minutes before Tim knelt and wrapped an arm around her waist, helping her to her feet. "Come on, let's get home."

* * *

"I don't know what it means, Gibbs, but it's the strangest thing. The _absolutely strangest_ thing-"

The agent followed the forensic tech into her lab, Tony and Ziva behind him. "What _is it_ , Abby?"

She sighed, pulling up the results that she'd uploaded. On the screen were what appeared to be DNA results, except- "This isn't DNA. Not human DNA exactly. I mean... it's more like... like some sort of human hybrid DNA."

"Whose is it?" Tony asked, trying to follow the strange lines on the screen and Abby's explanation at the same time and getting confused.

"You're kidding!" Ziva pushed gently past Abby, her gaze going to the names. "McGee and Sarah? This is their DNA?"

"It has to be some kind of mix up-" Tony started, but Abby cut him off.

"That's what I thought, but the tests had been run multiple times, and they all came back with the same results."

"So... what? McGee and little McGee are some sort of... strange hybrids? What kind of hybrids?"

Abby shook her head. "The closest thing the other lab could come up with was that it this DNA has similarities to seal DNA."

"Seal DNA?" Tony snorted as Gibbs smacked him. "Sorry, Boss."

"What do we do?" Ziva asked, turning to Gibbs. He turned back to the results, before turning on his heel.

"We talk to McGee. Ziver, you're with me."

* * *

Once they returned to the house, Kathleen got her a change of clothes, and then set about fixing tea, before everything began to overwhelm her and she collapsed at the table, shaking. "Are _ye_ alright?"

She looked up, to find the other woman standing not far from her, dressed in a pair of her jeans and a blouse, clutching the skin tightly to her chest, her long dark red hair tumbling down her back in curls.

"I'm just... it's just... overwhelming." A moment passed, before the other woman took a seat beside her at the table, lips puckered in thought.

" _Tha'_ we share _th' chil'ren_ , or _tha'_ they come from magic?"

"Both, I guess. All of it."

They settled in silence, casting uneasy glances at each other as Tim and Sarah entered the kitchen. Tim reached out, squeezing his mother's shoulder, before flicking his wrist and sending the tea kettle levitating. Four cups floated towards the table and settled down in of the two women; the kettle followed, pouring into each one before a tea bag and a touch of honey were added. The kettle then returned to the stove, and the burner flicked off. The siblings then settled at the table with the two women, pulling the other two cups towards them. Sarah lifted her cup and took a sip, gaze flicking between the two women.

"So... what now?" She turned to her brother, who sat flexing his fingers, causing the small flames to dance. He raised an eyebrow, before turning to Kathleen. After a moment of awkward silence, the paramedic whispered,

"We figure out the truth."

The siblings shared a glance. "I'll go call Dad." And without another word, Sarah was up and out of the kitchen in seconds.

* * *

"Let me get this straight," John turned back to those sitting at the table. He'd raced home at Sarah's phone call, only to discover nothing wrong- just a woman claiming to be Timothy and Sarah's _real_ mother sitting at the dining table talking with his wife. "Molly Phillips in Ireland isn't their real mother, _you_ are?" The woman in question nodded. "And... you're some sort of... selkie witch hybrid human _thing_ that can do magic, which means that's how my children can do magic also, because that makes _so_ much sense!"

The woman glanced at Kathleen, who kept silent. "I am _no'_ a thing. I am a selkie. An' I am a witch. _Bu' 'twas_ a witch long _b'fore_ I became a selkie."

"Wait, I'm confused. You're _not_ a selkie? But you have the skin-" Sarah sat up, setting her mug down with a clatter on the table. She turned to the younger woman.

"I am a selkie. _Bu' 'twasn't_ born one. _No'_ like _ye_ were."

"I don't understand. How can you be a selkie and not be born one?" Everyone fell silent before Tim finally spoke up, having worked it out in his mind.

"Old myth states if a person isn't born a selkie, but they show longing to live at the time of death, the ocean will grant their wish, and they'll become a selkie."

She nodded. " _'twas_ sixteen when I got pulled _b'neath th'_ waves. Sirens. _Aye_ , they exist." She answered before Sarah could even ask. "I begged _t'_ survive, _t'_ be _'llowed t'_ live. _Fough' t'_ live, really. The ocean _gran'ed me_ wish." She turned to Tim and Sarah. "I 'ad known magic from an early age. _'twas_ raised in it. Me powers manifested fully _a'_ sixteen." The siblings shared a glance. She chuckled softly. " _Aye_ , I can do _th'_ same as _ye_."

And without another word, she rolled her wrist and closed her hand, before slowly unfurling her fingers to reveal a small sea floating just above her palm. After a moment, she wiggled her fingers and the ocean shifted, changing into a small rainstorm. Her gaze moved up to the others; both John and Kathleen were shocked; they were used to Tim and Sarah showing off their powers, but this was new. She clearly knew what she was doing; had grown up able to harbor her powers and get control over them, unlike the kids. Smiling at Kathleen, she leaned down, blowing softly. The rain disappeared, becoming smoke that soon wafted away.

But before anyone could say anything, Tim's cell rang. He glanced at the others, before checking the name. With a roll of his eyes, he flicked the phone open. "What is it, Ziva?" He sighed, and stood, slipping out of the dining room. "No, I don't care if Gibbs is demanding it, I'm not coming in! I told you, I have a family emergency-" He turned back to the others. "Fine, you can come over and pick up the files, but _that's it_."

* * *

Ziva took a deep breath, reaching up to knock on the door, but laughter brought her attention to the window. She glanced through the window, to see Tim and Sarah in the kitchen with the others. Returning to the door, she knocked quickly, and then stepped back and waited. After a moment, the door opened and Kathleen poked her head out. "Ah, Ziva, here for the evidence you and Tim were going to go over?" The Israeli nodded and stepped into the house. "Let me go get it." Kathleen shut the door behind her, and moved to get the files-

Voices came from the kitchen, and Ziva's gaze went towards it; silently, she moved towards the kitchen, stopping in time to see something that made her mouth drop in surprise. Tim and Sarah were sitting across from each other at the table; there was a strange woman with long, dark red hair sitting across from them, and Dr. McGee was leaning against the counter. But what surprised Ziva was what the siblings were doing.

The tea kettle was levitating, and spoons were stirring in their cups by themselves. A plate of gingersnaps floated towards the table and settled in the center, and Tim was holding his hands out in front of him. He was holding what appeared to be a raging fire within his palms; it sparked and popped and sizzled like any fire in a fireplace would. Sarah sat beside her brother; she flicked her wrist, and the cookies floated into the air, making their way towards her. Without a word, Tim turned towards Sarah, blowing gently on the flames. They turned to snowflakes, and Sarah squealed, brushing them away, even as her brother stopped, his eyes widening in shock. "Ziva?"

The cookies fell to the table, and John quickly grabbed the tea kettle.

"It took me a few minutes to find, but here's the file you wanted, Ziva-" Kathleen stopped, as the Israeli turned to her. "Oh, no. How much of that did you see?"

The look on her face made Kathleen's heart stall, _All of it._


	13. Chapter 13

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

Tim climbed to his feet, hurrying over to his partner. "What are you doing here? I said you could come get the file, not eavesdrop-"

"I wasn't eavesdropping, Tim. I came to get the file, your mother let me in." He sighed, taking the file from his mother, and shoving it into Ziva's embrace.

"You have the file, now _go_." And gently, but firmly, he pushed her towards the door. But Ziva, never one to be cut off from information if she could help it, dug her heels in.

"What's going on, Tim?" He sighed, glancing back at his sister, who'd climbed to her feet.

"Nothing, Ziva, now go!" He shoved her harder than he meant to, and she stumbled, the files falling to the floor and scattering. With a soft gasp, Sarah flicked her wrist, just as Ziva knelt to pick everything up. The papers floated into the air, Ziva knelt watching with wide eyes as the files returned to the folder, which then closed. Tim reached up and took it as Ziva stood. Without a word, she accepted it. "You need to go, Ziva."

But she turned back. "Who is she?" Tim followed her gaze; their... what was she? Birth mother? She had to be, because Kathleen was their adoptive mother, their real mother. So it made sense that she was their birth mother. Their birth mother had joined Sarah; she was talking softly in some strange language to the girl, who looked absolutely upset about something. Tim had a feeling he knew exactly what Sarah was upset about.

"She's... it's hard to explain."

"Oh? Explain it to me then."

He shook his head. "No."

Ziva crossed her arms over her chest. "We are partners, McGee. I have your back, you have mine. Do you not trust me?"

He sighed. "I do trust you, Ziva, I just... you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Try me."

"Won't Gibbs be mad?"

"Gibbs can wait, McGee." She softened at the look in his eyes. "McGee, are you and Sarah in some sort of trouble?"

He started. "What? No! No, not at all! It just..." He turned back to his sister, before glancing at Ziva and making his way to her. Without a word, he let Sarah throw her arms around him, and Ziva watched as he said something softly to the other woman, who nodded, a twinge of hurt passing over her features. She backed away, allowing Tim to take care of Sarah, and after a moment, Ziva turned, feeling Kathleen's eyes on her.

"I think it's best if you go." The younger woman nodded, and followed Kathleen to the door. Once outside on the step, she turned to the paramedic. " _Please_ don't say anything to anyone, Ziva. We've tried so hard to keep their magic a secret, and we've done well until now. If anyone finds out, they'll become test subjects to be studied. Tim trusts you. So does Sarah, and to some extent, John and I do as well. Please keep this a secret. Not even to the rest of the team. This stays between us."

The agent nodded. "I promise."

Kathleen reached out, taking her hand and squeezing. "Thank you." Then, without another word, she slipped into the house and shut the door.

* * *

"She's gone." Sarah looked up from where she as curled against her brother's chest, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I also made her promise to keep this just between us."

"We _canna_ trust others _tha'_ discover. _'twill_ only seek _t' 'urt_ us in _th'_ end." Tim turned his gaze to his birth mother. Avianna looked genuinely sick in regards to Ziva having shown up. Clearly, she'd had very little contact with humans in the last several years; it was evident she didn't trust them fully. The only ones she trusted were Kathleen and John, but that was because they'd raised her children; all other humans were subject to suspicion.

"Ziva won't. She's my partner. If Mom asked her to keep our secret, she'll keep it." Sarah sniffled, burrowing further into her brother's arms, and he tightened his hold on her. "Shh, it's okay, Sarah. Ziva won't tell. You know she won't. It's okay." Never letting go of his sister, he turned to his parents. His gaze landed on the selkie. "Are you going to stay for the night?"

* * *

He looked up to see her come out of the house; Sarah leaned against the driver's side door, arms crossed, tears drying on her cheeks. " _Mus' ye_ go?"

"I haven't been back at my place in a week. I need time to myself; can't get that here." He opened the driver's side door, causing Sarah to jolt up and move away. "Are you sure being away from land won't-"

"I _'ave_ been _'way b'fore._ Long as I can return _wit' me_ skin, _'twill_ be fine." She turned back to the house. "I _dinna_ think she cares for me, _thou_ '."

Tim followed her gaze as Sarah kept quiet, still upset about earlier. "It's a lot for her to take in. Mom's always been protective of us. She told me once when I asked, that all she ever really wanted was to be a mother." He turned back to her. "Thanks to you, she has been."

A moment passed, before she reached up, caressing both his and Sarah's cheeks. Her gaze landed on the chains around their necks, and she gently lifted Tim's, revealing the pearl- though she knew what it really was. Stardust and bits of galaxy, pulled from the heavens themselves. They had done as she asked, all those years ago, and kept them on. She took their hands, tears in her eyes. " _Me beau'iful_ twins. _Ye 'ave_ grown so."


	14. Chapter 14

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

Tim and Sarah shared a glance. Twins? She _had_ to be mistaken.

There was _no way_ in _hell_ they were twins- they were two years apart in age, for crying out loud! Clearly, there wasn't something right in her-

"Um... actually, you're wrong. We're not twins." Sarah replied, and Avianna turned her gaze to the young college student.

" _O'_ course, _ye don'_ remember." A soft sigh escaped her throat, and she pulled away, gaze dropping to her own hands. She reached up, trying unsuccessfully to tuck several strands of her wild dark red hair behind her ear.

"Remember?" Tim raised an eyebrow.

" _Yer_ lives _b'fore ye_ were taken from me." She took a seat on the curb, and after a moment, Tim and Sarah joined her, sitting down on either side. _"'tis_ a long story, _an'_ I wouldn't even know where _t'_ begin."

"The beginning is always good." Sarah replied. "Right, Timmy?"

He sighed, glancing back at the house. "I have a feeling we're going to need coffee."

* * *

"I don't like this, John. She's getting too close."

"She's their mother, Kathleen." He winced at the glare his wife sent his way. "Their birth mother." He amended, and she turned back to her cup. "She's allowed to get close."

"But we can't trust her, we don't know her except what she tells us-"

"You think she's lying?" He took a seat beside her, reaching out and taking her hand, squeezing gently.

"Don't you?"

He shook his head, sipping his coffee. "On the contrary. I think she's been telling the truth all along."

His wife snorted and shook her head, getting up, even as the door opened and the trio came back into the house. "I thought you were heading back to Silver Spring, Timmy?" The agent sighed.

"She has something to tell us." He nodded to Avianna. "Fix another pot of coffee, Mom? You and Dad should hear this too."

* * *

Ziva set the folder on her kitchen table. She'd gone home instead of returning to NCIS, needing space to sort out what she'd just witnessed at the McGee house. There was no way what she'd seen had been real, but then again, she'd been trained to believe in things that might be of the supernatural spectrum, she just wasn't expecting her partner and his little sister to fall into that category. She'd known Tim for at least two years, and in that time, nothing- absolutely _nothing_ \- about him had screamed _'Magic!'_ If anything, Tim was fairly unassuming...

But evidently, as Kathleen said, it was something he and Sarah had kept hidden for years. Which meant they'd obviously had their... powers... from the time they were most likely children. And clearly, they'd learned to harness them pretty well-

Ziva stopped fixing a cup of tea, something flashing in her head.

 _The plasma sparking and then exploding._

But why? There was nothing wrong with the TV. Sure, it was a couple years old, but other than that-

 _Sarah._

"Son of a-" Suddenly, it made sense. _Sarah had been standing right next to the plasma when it short circuited and exploded. And she'd been obviously angry at her brother about something._ Setting her cup down, she grabbed her keys and her coat, and left the apartment.

* * *

She suddenly found herself the center of attention. Nervously, she reached up, grabbing a strand of hair and twisting it around her finger nervously. Kathleen watched her, noting how young she looked; she couldn't have been older than sixteen, eighteen at most. _Eighteen-years-old and she's already had two children. What a lucky little b-_ A frantic knock at the door pulled the paramedic from her thoughts, and she went to answer it, surprised to see Ziva on the other side. "Ziva, what are you-"

"I know what happened this afternoon in the bullpen. Can I come in?" Confused, Kathleen stepped aside.

"I don't understa- did something happen at work?" Ziva turned to her.

"The plasma exploded."

"Ziva, what are you doing here? I told you to go." Tim stood, coming out of the kitchen towards his partner. She turned to him.

"Today in the bullpen, when you and Sarah were arguing, the plasma exploded. Remember?" It took a moment, but eventually Tim nodded. "Sarah did it, didn't she?" She poked her head around Tim to look at Sarah, who hadn't moved from the table. "She lost her temper and made the plasma explode."

"I didn't do it on purpose." Tim turned back to his little sister, who had pulled her knees up to her chest on her chair and wrapped her arms around them. The agent sighed, turning back to his partner.

"You can't _be here_ , Ziva."

"You have always had magic, haven't you?" She asked, moving close and taking his hand. "Yet you are not like _Harry Potter_ ; you do not use wands. It comes from your hands." She studied his hand, gaze going over the lines within his palm before moving to his fingers. Those long, slender fingers she would watch dance over a keyboard with ease- fingers she silently wished would tangle in her hair or wrap around her waist. "Why do you hide it, Tim? I know why you hide it from the public, but why do you hide it from Gibbs and Tony and me?"

"Like they would believe us." Sarah spat, tangling a hand in her hair and sniffling. "Why do you believe us, Ziva?"

The Israeli glanced at Kathleen and Tim before making her way to the college student., She knelt so she was level with Sarah's gaze. "In Mossad, part of the training is to be open to things you cannot see, or even understand."

"The supernatural." The girl whispered.

Ziva shrugged. "Call it what you want, not everything can be explained by the laws of the natural world." She reached up, brushing a tear off Sarah's cheek before standing.

"You believe in ghosts, Ziva?" Sarah asked, causing the agent to turn back. She thought a moment.

"I do not _not_ believe in ghosts... or demons... or monsters." She glanced between the siblings. "Or magic."

Tim glanced at his sister, before turning to Kathleen. She sighed, wrapping an arm around her son's waist and squeezing. "It's your decision, Tim. Your father and I can't make it for you. It's your choice, if you want to let Ziva in. Don't you think it would a little easier to carry if someone else knew?" He met her gaze.

"You trust Ziva?"

She shrugged. "Not completely, but she's willing to be open about it. That's more than I can say for the rest of your team." She reached up, brushing an eyelash off her son's cheek. "Besides, I think she likes you." He raised an eyebrow.

"Ziva? Like me?"

His mother nodded. "I think she's got a tiny crush on you. Which, compared to some of the women you've brought home in the last few years, Ziva's a big improvement." She glanced at the eyelash, balanced on the ball of her finger. "Make a wish, baby boy."

He gazed at it, before shaking his head. "No, you, Mama."

Kathleen grinned; it was the first _real_ smile her son had seen since this whole thing started. Maybe she was finally getting some of her old self back. At least, Tim hoped she was. Kathleen closed her eyes briefly before blowing. Tim watched the eyelash float off her finger, and then wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"I hope your wish comes true, Mama."


	15. Chapter 15

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

John stood, pulling out another chair. "Take a seat, Ziva."

" _'ow d' ye_ know she can be trusted?"

The Israeli turned to the other woman, furrowing a brow. "I saw you earlier when I was here. Who are you?"

Before John could say anything, Tim spoke up, coming back into the kitchen with Kathleen. "She's..." He glanced at Kathleen, worried about how she would react, but his mother pulled away, going to the coffee pot. "She's my and Sarah's birth mother." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kathleen tense, but only briefly.

"I do not understand. I thought-"

"You do know that Sarah and I are adopted, don't you, Ziva?" Tim asked as she slowly sank into the chair beside Sarah. The agent nodded.

"But... but what about the Phillips's. Isn't Molly Phillips your-"

"Molly Phillips. _Tha'... thing... 'as_ a _name_?" Ziva started at the venom in the other woman's voice. It took her a moment, before she got over the shock of seeing the woman there, but once she had, she let herself study the woman. She was small, probably around Ziva and Sarah's height, with dark red hair that tumbled in curls down her back and shoulders. Her eyes were the same green as Tim and Sarah's, and she possessed a lot of the same physical features as the McGee siblings; from her slight, upturned nose to the dimples in her cheeks- it was evident that she possessed the same DNA as Sarah and her brother.

A soft gasp escaped her, and Ziva quickly covered her mouth, though it was too late, everyone was already looking at her.

"You okay, Ziva?" Sarah asked; out of habit, she flicked her wrist. The coffee pot and a cup floated over to the table. Once the coffee, sugar and cream had been added, the pot returned to the coffee maker. The Israeli made no move to take it.

"NCIS got lab results for you and Sarah!" She cried, turning to Tim. The agent paled, glancing at his sister.

"Lab results? What kind of lab results?" John studied his children, intrigued. "Timothy? Sarah?" The siblings shared a glance before Tim spoke up,

"We had a DNA test done today, Dad. We just..." He shrugged. "Wanted to know where we came from. Thought maybe it could help pinpoint our origins. We didn't do it because we don't love you or Mom anymore, we just," He sighed. "We just want to know where we come from."

"The results came back strange."

"Strange how, Ziva?" John asked, the doctor in him intrigued. She sighed.

"It came back saying that the closest thing to a match was... seal DNA."

"Seal?" John shook his head, unsure he'd heard correctly. "I'm sorry, you said... seal, correct?"

"Ken, Mr. McGee. It said they appeared to be some sort of... human-seal hybrid. Like a... like a..."

" _Selkie_." Kathleen finished for her. Suddenly, all eyes turned to Avianna, and she looked up, still nervously playing with her hair. She didn't say a word, but it was evidently clear when she nodded.

"So we're... we're selkies?" Sarah asked, trying to get her head around it. Even though they didn't have the DNA evidence, Avianna's silent acknowledgment was enough. "But... wait." She turned back to their birth mother, confused by something. "Earlier, you call us twins. Timmy and I aren't twins. There's two years between us!"

The woman sighed, dropping the strand of hair and folding her arms on the table, hands wrapping around her mug. " _'tis_ a long story. _D' ye'_ think _ye'll_ be _wilin' t' lis'en_?" Everyone shared a glance and nodded, but ultimately, it came down to Tim and Sarah. If they said no, she wouldn't say a word. Tim met his sister's gaze. They spoke softly with each other, in that secret language they'd developed as children. Ziva recognized it as the language they'd been arguing in that morning in the bullpen. After several minutes, Tim nodded.

"If it'll help us figure out who we are and where we come from. Yes. We want to hear it."

* * *

She sighed; how did she even begin to explain? What would they think, if they knew she was older than any of them could guess? She'd heard the dark-skinned woman beside Sarah ask how old she was, but how did she explain that though she looked about eighteen, she was actually much, much older? That she had grown up in the time of Granuaile O'Malley, the famous Irish pirate queen?

"Selkies _'ave_ lived many years; some _'ave_ lived millenia. _Thou' 'twas no'_ born a selkie, I grew up in a time when _t'_ be a woman was... frowned upon."

"What time was that?" Sarah asked, watching as Avianna rubbed her thumb along the rim of her cup. "The fifties?"

The woman chuckled softly, and shook her head, as Tim gently nudged his sister in the ribs. " _Th' fif'een 'undreds._ "

John coughed on his coffee. "I'm sorry, _what_?"

She turned to him, a wiry smile tugging at her features. " _B'lieve_ me _o' no', bu' th'_ year I _'twas_ pulled _b'neath th'_ sea _'twas th'_ year _o'_ our Lord, _six'een 'undred 'n_ three."

"And you were... sixteen?" She nodded, as Tim did the math in his head. "So you would have been born in fifteen-"

" _Fif'een 'undred 'n eigh'y-se'en_." She finished, nodding quickly. _"Aye. 'twas_ a time when even simple fortunetelling _wou'd resul'_ in _burnin' a' th'_ stake-"

"But they hanged witches in Salem." Sarah interrupted. "They didn't burn them."

"Salem was the sixteen-hundreds, Sarah." Tim replied, taking his sister's hand. "The supposed witches of Salem were hanged in Massachusetts in sixteen-ninety-two. The biggest period of witch hunts in Europe were between fifteen-fifty and sixteen-fifty." She furrowed a brow, confused. "Don't leave your history textbooks lying around if you don't want me reading them."

"How did you escape then?" Kathleen asked, ignoring her bickering children.

" _Me' ma 'ad alrea'y_ burned. _Da pu'_ me on a ship, _boun'_ for _'ispanola_ , so I _woul'_ survive _an' no' b'come th' nex' t'_ burn. We _ne'er_ made it. Crashed _o' th'_ shoals _no'_ long _af'er leavin'_ port. _Th'_ sirens dragged me _'low, an'_ I _fough' t'_ survive. _Manipula'ive ugly_ creatures, sirens." Ziva chuckled softly; she remembered learning about the sirens of Greek myth- half-woman, half-bird creatures punished by Demeter for their failure to save Persephone from Hades.

"You became a selkie, then." Kathleen whispered, and Avianna nodded. "But you look no older than eighteen-"

"We grow _olde', bu'_ we do _no'_ age. There are selkies who are _'undreds o'_ years old, older than I."

"How old are we?" The question was blunt, and Sarah quickly locked eyes with her mother. "What? Timmy and I are selkies, aren't we? If she's hundreds of years old, who's to say we aren't the same?"

"But the test results showed you are half-human, half-seal. So you are only half selkie." Ziva said. Sarah turned to her, but Avianna spoke before Sarah could.

"Selkies are _'ybrids,_ as _ye call 'em_." She sighed, reaching up to play with her hair again. "Two years _af'er_ I became a selkie," She swallowed. " _Ye mus' und'rstan'_ , time is slower _fo'_ us. _Wha'_ is ten years _fo'_ you, will _b'_ two _fo'_ us."

"So... in our time it would be ten years after you became a selkie." Ziva replied, and she nodded, glancing quickly at Tim and Sarah.

" _'tis_ imperative for a new member _o' th' 'erd t'... t'_ mate..." She sniffled, glancing up at her children. A blush colored her cheeks, and she let her long, dark hair fall over her face like a curtain. "I _dinna wan' t'_. I was young, I knew _nothin'_ in _th'_ ways _o'_ flesh or human desires."

"Who is our father?" The question was soft, and Tim didn't miss the pain in John's eyes from Sarah's quiet question. But without another word, Avianna was up and out of her chair in a matter of seconds. She rushed from the house into the yard, doubling over in pain; clearly, the question had touched a deep, resonating nerve.

" _Sarah_." She turned to her brother, who rolled his eyes and got up.

"What?"

* * *

She took a deep breath, returning to the kitchen and silently slipping back into her seat. A shaky breath, and then she bit her lip. " _I'ma_ sorry, I-" She glanced at her children. " _Yer fath'r_ ," She sniffled, tears coming to her eyes again.

"Is he a selkie?" Sarah asked, as Tim met her eyes. Avianna shook her head, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. "Is he human, then?" Another shake of the head. "Then what is he, centaur? Gorgon? Kelpie? What? Our birth mother is a selkie witch, that means our father could be _any number_ of _mythological creatures_ -"

"That's _enough_ , Sarah Margaret." The college student snapped her mouth shut at the sternness of Kathleen's tone.

"Sorry." Tim snorted softly, and she glared at him, kicking him under the table. He glared at her, and slumped in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. In that moment, he looked like a sullen teenager to Ziva, not the calculated, logical agent that often had her back during a case. She could only imagine the headaches Tim gave his parents as a teenager.

" _Yer fath'r_ is _o'_ a race _tha'... tha'_ humans _'ave_ feared for _cent'ries_." Her voice was soft as she spoke, reaching up for the necklaces she normally wore around her neck, but that her children now wore. The very necklaces around her children's necks were the last remnant of the man she loved- besides her children. She ran her fingers along her throat, lost in thought, drawn back to the day they had first met, two years after she had become a selkie, that fateful day on the beach near Kinvara.

Even now she could see his face, hear his voice. Oh why had she been so stupid? Why hadn't she just allowed one of the others of the herd to take her? Why had she been so damn stubborn? _Bu' if ye 'adn't, yer chil'ren woul'n't exist._

"They're quite... _vin'ictive_ creatures, _an'_ can be _benevolen'_ when they wish, _bu'_ only _fo' somethin'_ in exchange." She looked down at her neck, as if realizing the necklaces weren't there. "I was young... I _dinna kno'_ any _bet'er_. I'd _hear' th'_ stories as a _chil', bu'... bu' 'ad ne'er me'_ one. _No' 'til_ then. I _resis'ed th' oth'rs_ in _th'_ herd..." She swallowed thickly. " _'twas walkin'_ on _th'_ beach one _af'ernoon_ , when we _me'. 'twas_ a thing _me_ eyes _coul' scarce b'lieve_. I'd _ne'er_ seen one up close, _an'_ _cer'ainly no'_ one _wit'_ such _beau'iful_ wings. Like _stardus'_." She met their eyes. "I know _wha' ye're thinkin_ '; they may be called _th'_ wee folk, _bu'_ they can change their shape as easily as _ye_ can blink. _'tis 'ow_ they blend in _'mong th'_ human world."

"Wait, slow down, are... are you saying that... that _our dad_ ," Sarah motioned between her and Tim. "Is a _fairy_?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written 2008.- Licia**

"Kiertan. _Yer fath'r's_ name is Kiertan." Avianna whispered. "Crown Prince _o' th'_ Fae."

John choked on his coffee. "I'm sorry... _what_?" Kathleen was up and quickly rubbing his back in a matter of minutes, as the good doctor tried to get his breathing back in order.

"I... h... how is that even... possible?" Sarah asked as her brother cleared his throat. She blushed. "Oh."

"I'm confused. I thought you were a selkie." Kathleen spoke up, gently rubbing her husband's back, before he reached up and grabbed her hand, squeezing to get her to stop because she was starting to hurt. "Sorry, honey."

Avianna blushed to the point her cheeks were almost the same color as her dark red hair. "I _ma'be_ a selkie, _bu'_ I am still human. _'twas_ still born a human. A selkie is... simply a _mai'en curse' t'_ wear a seal's skin."

"Do you really think it a curse?" Ziva asked, surprised to hear such an admission.

"Sometimes. We _mus'_ be careful _o' th'_ humans we _trus'_. We are _of'en 'unted an'_ killed _fo'_ our skins. _An' tha'_ is _jus' th'_ human world. We _mus'_ also fear _th'_ wee folk- _th'_ Fae, as they _prefe' t'_ be called now." She turned her head, trying desperately to keep her tears at bay. "They will do more _'arm_ than good, if _ye_ cross _'em_." She sighed. " _'twas_ love _a' firs' sigh'._ We met in _secre'_ , for months. An affair, I _b'lieve ye_ humans call _i'_."

"What then? What happened?" She reached across the table for Sarah's hand; the girl slowly gave it to her, and after a moment, she studied the girl's palm.

" _Ye 'ave_ his fingers. _Ye_ both do." Tears glimmered in her eyes. "A year _an'_ a _'alf int' th'_ affair, I fell _pregnan'. 't'were goin' t'_ marry, Kiertan _an'_ I. I know, it seems impossible, _bu'_ I was _prepare' t'_ destroy _me_ skin _t'_ be _wit'_ him. _Th'_ necklaces _ye_ wear, he gave me- a set." She squeezed Sarah's hand. " _'e tol'_ me _o'_ these rings, made by _th' blacksmit' o' th'_ fairy _cour'; mel'ed_ black agate in _silv'r_ \- a set, one _fo'_ him, _an'_ one _tha'_ he was _t'_ give _t' 'is_ bride; _th'_ rings _woul'_ bind him _an' 'is_ bride _t'gether_ for eternity. _'e sai' 'e_ knew _th' oth'r_ ring _'twas mean' fo'_ me. So I..."

"You stole them." Ziva whispered, everything clicking into place. Avianna nodded.

" _'twas_ young, I... all I _wan'ed_ , was _t'_ be _wit'_ him. One _nigh'_ , when _th' res' o' th' cour'_ slept, _'e_ snuck me in. _'elped_ me _ge' th'_ rings from the _blacksmit', bu' b'fore_ we _coul'_... we _go' caugh'. Vin'ictive_ creatures, _'specially_ when one _o'_ their own _b'trays 'em. 'e_ was able _t' ge'_ me _ou' o' th' cour' an'_ back _t' th'_ sea, _bu'_ was taken _pris'ner,_ called a _trai'or_..." She choked on a sob. "Placed a curse on me, _th'_ Fae did."

"What kind of curse?" Ziva asked, for the Israeli had become entirely invested in this tale, this... new discovery of her partner's past.

* * *

Avianna bit her lip, and it was clear that she was struggling so very hard not to cry. Her gaze moved to Tim and Sarah, and she choked out, " _B'cause_ I stole _th' Eterni'y_ rings, they _woul'_ steal _somethin' o'_ mine in a years' time, _an'_ I _woul' 'ave t'_ live _wit' th'_ knowledge _tha' me_ own _chil'ren woul' ne'er_ remember who they were, where they truly come from."

Ziva glanced at Tim and Sarah as the siblings seemed to understand exactly what the Fae had stolen from her. "So-"

She swallowed, heartbreak evident in her voice as she spoke. "I bore twins. A boy _an'_ a girl. _'twas_ nearly banished from _th'_ herd, _fo' wha'_ I'd done- _no' jus' stealin' th'_ rings, _bu' fo' layin' wit'_ a Fae. _Bu'_ they changed their minds _a' las'_ minute."

"Could he have been playing with you?" Ziva had read that fairies could be considered tricksters, and often liked to play with peoples' emotions for their own twisted enjoyment, but Avianna shook her head.

"' _e_ wasn't."

"How do you know? He could have been playing with you and you'd have never known."

" _B'cause 'e_ was so _exci'ed_ when I _tol' 'im 'twas wit' chil'. 'e tol'_ me _tha' 'e dinna wan' th'_ throne; _tha' 'e_ wished _'e_ was... human instead _o'_ Fae. _'e 'ated 'is_ position, _an' wan'ed nothin'_ more than _t'_ be free _o'_ it. _'e dinna wan' th' throne_ ; _fo' tha'_ alone, _'e_ was a _trai'or_." She sniffled, reaching up to swipe at the tears on her cheeks. " _'e ne'er go' t'_ meet-" She bit her lip. "A year _t' th'_ day I stole _th'_ rings, they came." Her lips thinned into a line, and she closed her eye briefly. " _'twas_ on _th'_ beach _wit' ye, an'_..." She exhaled slowly, trying hard not to cry. "I begged _'em, bu'_ they _woul'n't lis'en. Sai' 'twas th'_ price I _woul'_ pay _fo' stealin'_ from _'em_."

She met Tim and Sarah's gazes, as Kathleen bit her lip and then asked,

"But... isn't the curse broken now?"

" _Bu'_ they _don'_ remember. any _o'_ their _pas'_ or who they really are. I _'ad t' wa'ch 'em_ grow up from afar."

"With the McGees?" Ziva asked, but Avianna shook her head.

"Were _no' wit'_ the Fae long. _Th'_ Fae gave _ye t'... t'... tha' thing_." She winced, as though even thinking about Molly Phillips. " _She_ stole..." She sighed, glancing at her children. " _Ye_ are... _par'_ fairy-"

"Changelings." Ziva suggested. Everyone turned to her. "Changelings are fairies, yes?"

"Yes, but changelings are often evil fairies. They replace human babies to cause havoc, usually. Or, that's what the legends say." Kathleen replied; John still hadn't said anything. He was having trouble drinking the entire story in.

Taking that as her opening, Sarah turned to her brother. "Well, I don't know about you, Timmy, but I could use a _drink_." She stood, turning to Avianna. A moment passed, before she turned back to her brother. "Coming?" Then, without a word, she grabbed his arm and yanked him up, tugging him towards the front door.

Kathleen sighed as the front door slammed and the lights short circuited. "Ziva, would you make sure they don't get into any sort of trouble, please?" Without a word, the Israeli slipped out after her partner and his sister.

* * *

Tony looked up. "Hey! McGee! Little McGee! What are you two doin' here?" Gibbs, Ducky, Palmer and Abby all looked up in time to see Tim and Sarah enter; the siblings didn't hear the Italian, instead, they went straight for the bar. The others on the team exchanged glances, before Ziva showed up. "Ziva! Come join us!"

She made her way towards them, her gaze not having moved to the bar yet. "Have any of you seen Tim and Sarah?"

"I believe Timothy and Sarah are over at the bar, my dear." Ducky replied, sipping his drink. Ziva nodded, before turning to scan the bar for her charges. She'd completely forgotten that they had all agreed to go out for drinks- when it came to stressful cases such as the Phillips one, the team often took a night to distress before jumping back into it.

She found the siblings sitting at the bar, doing shots of- well, Ziva wasn't sure- possibly tequila, possibly whiskey or vodka or any number of liquors. Sarah was laughing at something her brother said, as she downed another shot and made a face. "You've never been able to hold your liquor, Sarah, Irish or _no'_. Remember the Tom and Jerry's Penny made the Christmas before you turned eleven? One sip and you were eating floor-"

"Hey! It's _no'_ my fault Penny puts more liquor than eggs or cinnamon or any of the other spices-"

"- you Army crawled into the living room that night, and when you finally got to the sofa, you realized that you'd left your drink behind."

The younger girl gently swatted her brother's shoulder. "Can you believe that back there? She spins some... strange story about being a selkie and how we're 'half fairy', and expects us to believe that trash. It's like a badly written romance novel." Just as Sarah was about to say something, Ziva showed up. She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of the beer she ordered. "Look who decided to join the party. Ziva! Did you come to join us, or did our seal-mom send you to chaperone us?"

"Your parents sent me, Mrs. McGee wanted me to make sure you didn't do anything stupid."

"So our fake mother." Tim replied, downing another shot.

"Mrs. McGee isn't your fake mother, Tim-"

"And how would you know, _Da_ vid? You don't have a mother." None of them heard the rest of the team join them; for Gibbs had watched from their table as the two siblings got tipsier and tipsier, and knew from experience, that that kind of drinking only came from having learned some shocking or horrifying news, and that that kind of drinking was usually followed by either some sort of fight or trouble that would undoubtedly happen. Tony swallowed, hearing Ziva inhale slowly. She reached over, taking the bottle out of the younger woman's hands.

"Hey! That's mine!"

"Not anymore, Sarah, you're cut off." She grabbed the younger woman's arm, shoving the bottle into Tony's hands, and yanked Sarah off the stool. "Come on, I'm taking you home. You too, Tim. Come on."

The agent was a little more accommodating than his sister, and he slid off the stool with a measured ease that seemed to tell the rest of the team that no matter how plastered he got, he was able to hold his liquor just fine. He was full-bred Irish, after all. Ducky reached out a hand to steady the younger man as he swayed lightly on his feet, before Ziva slipped her other arm through his. She glanced back at the barista. "I'll come back and pay the tab after I get these two home." The black-haired woman waved it away.

"Don't worry about it. I got it. Tim's helped me out enough that I can afford to for this round for him and Sarah. Just make sure they get home all right."

As Ziva led the pair out the door, Sarah turned back. "Can't we stay with you, Ebony?"

The Israeli rolled her eyes. "For someone who's Irish, Sarah sure can't hold her liquor."

"She hasn't had much practice." Tim replied, meeting her gaze as Sarah dug her feet in.

"I don't want to go back to that- that _lying couple_!" Sarah cried, her temper rising. A suddenly power outage hit the bar, and her brother snorted. But before he could say anything, Ziva yanked the siblings out of the bar, the rest of the team following.


	17. Chapter 17

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2008.- Licia**

"I'm sorry. I _dinna_ realize _'ow_ badly they _woul'_ react _t'_ -"

Avianna swallowed thickly, twisting strands of dark red hair around her fingers. Kathleen watched the woman, unsure of what to say or do to comfort her. What did she say to the woman who had returned to take her children? _That's okay, once they return and calm down, then they can choose who they want to be with._ She kicked herself mentally. That would go over real well. Though it was clear that Avianna was determined to take her children back, to be with them, and get to know them, and that was fine and all, but she would be stealing away the very thing that had given Kathleen's life meaning for the last twelve years or so.

"They are my children after all. They got their tempers from me, I would think."

Avianna's eyes moved to meet Kathleen's, and after a moment, she leaned forward, folding her arms on the table. Just who did this woman think she was? Yes, she had raised her beloved children, but she had not given birth to them. She had not-

A sharp knock on the door drew the pair from their staring contest, and after a moment, Kathleen stood, glancing at Avianna as she moved to answer it.

* * *

Kathleen pulled the door open, to find Ziva standing on the step, the rest of the team behind her, Tim and Sarah being held tightly in place by Gibbs, Ducky, Abby and Tony. Both appeared tipsier than normal; clearly, they'd started drinking as soon as they set foot in the bar, and given that they'd been gone two and a half hours, it didn't surprise her. Though they rarely drank, when they did, excess was usually their normal- if they were upset or angry or hurt.

A soft sigh escaped her throat. "Thank you, for bringing them back, Ziva." She stepped aside, allowing the siblings to stumble inside.

Sarah let out a laugh, flicking her wrist only to have Tim grab her hand with a loud _"Shh!"_ before turning back to glance at his team, and burst into laughter. _"We can't let the muggles see!"_ His sister giggled, and turned to him, eyes wide. Avianna, who hadn't moved from her chair at the table, looked up at the laughter. She studied her children, watched as they chattered on in a made up language, waving their hands in excitement. "They wouldn't believe in magic if we showed them, remember?" She stood, but didn't move from the table.

"Welcome, Mrs. McGee. Other than reeking of alcohol, and causing a few sparks in the bar, they're fine." Ziva replied, as Avianna finally hurried to them, but both siblings pulled away from her. Sarah stuck her tongue out at the woman, blowing a raspberry, before bursting into laughter, stumbling into her brother.

" _Wha'_ is wrong _wit' 'em_?" Everyone turned to Avianna. Her gaze shot to Ziva, who had the decency to step back. " _Wha'_ _di' ye_ do _t' me chil'ren_?"

"They're drunk." Ziva replied, but Kathleen held up a hand, turning to Avianna.

"Take them into the kitchen. Get some coffee in them. Please. Black. I don't care how they protest. Black is always good for a hangover. Any sugars or sweeteners will just make them drunker." Ziva nodded, moving around Kathleen and taking Sarah's arm. The girl turned to her, tugging away, but Ziva was stronger. She gently shoved the girl towards the kitchen and grabbed her partner's arm, tugging him along; after a moment, Avianna followed in silence, glancing back at Kathleen with a look of distrust. Once gone, Kathleen turned back to the others on the team. "Thank you, for helping Ziva bring my children home, Agent Gibbs. Now if you'll excuse me." She moved to shut the door, but a hand on the door stopped her.

"What's going on, Mrs. McGee?"

Kathleen met his gaze. She couldn't let Gibbs and the rest of his team know, they'd never believe it; if anything, they'd probably turn her children over to be studied- "Nothing's going on, Agent Gibbs. Now if you'll _excuse me_ , I have to attend to my children." But he once more stopped the door from closing.

"Sarah said something about magic tonight, outside of the bar. Something about royalty-" He watched her gaze move to look back at her children, biting her lip. Then, she turned back.

"You know Sarah, she's got an overactive imagination." She turned to go, but a voice stopped her.

"This wasn't the ramblings of an overactive imagination, Mrs. McGee." Ducky cut in softly. Slowly, Kathleen turned back, meeting the good doctor's eyes. "She seemed to _genuinely_ believe that she and Timothy possess the power of magic-"

Yelling tore Kathleen's attention back to her children. A mug shattered, Sarah and Tim were on opposite sides of the table, arguing in their language; the voices got louder, and after a moment, John pulled Ziva out of the way as a coffee mug flew by, shattering against the far wall. In a matter of minutes, the lights flickered and went out, several light bulbs bursting in the process. Kathleen sighed. "Oh, no. Not again." Without another word to the rest of the team, she turned, hurrying back into the house. Gibbs and the others followed, determined to help with whatever had happened-

They skidded to a stop.

Tim and Sarah stood in the kitchen, at the table. Candles floated before them, and Sarah wiggled her fingers, causing a few more to float forward; meanwhile, Tim stood lighting the candles, but not with a lighter or matches. No, what stunned Gibbs and the rest of his team were the small, flickering flames dancing on the ends of their agent's fingers. Tim and Sarah turned, meeting their gazes.


	18. Chapter 18

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2008.- Licia**

 _"Shit."_

" _Sarah Margaret McGee! Language!_ "

The siblings shared a glance, before Sarah turned back to her brother. She made a face, and her brother laughed, moving away from the candles and opening his hands, causing the flames in his palms to grow. He grinned at his sister, who narrowed her eyes, and flicked her wrist, sending an unlit candle towards him, which he ducked. With a laugh, Tim flexed his fingers; the flames changed, morphing into a small rainstorm. Then, with a devilish smile and light in his green eyes, he leaned down, blowing on the storm, turning the rain into snowflakes that blew across the table and into Sarah's face.

 _"No' funny, Brother!"_ And without another word, Sarah sent a blast of water at her brother, hitting Tim square in the face. A glare flitted across Tim's features, before he darted around the table; Sarah took off running, pushing past everyone and darting outside, Tim hot on her heels. Kathleen and John rushed after them, Ziva and Avianna following; the team gathered at the window, watching as Tim grabbed his sister around the waist, the two rolling in the grass. Storm clouds gathered overhead, lightning cracked and thunder roared before rain burst forth from the darkened sky.

 _"If ye 'adn't gone an' opened yer mouth a' th' bar, we wouldn't-"_

 _"It's no' my faul'-"_

 _"B'cause nothin's ev'r yer faul', Sarah!_ _Do ye know 'ow long I've been takin' th' blame for yer temp'r?"_

 _"That's enough! That's it! That's enough! Break it up, now!"_ After several minutes, John managed to pull Tim off his sister, holding him back, as Kathleen helped Sarah to her feet.

 _"There's no need for this! Do you want to expose the whole damn neighborhood to what you can do? Well, do you?"_ She looked between her children; a moment passed before John finally let go of his son. The siblings stared at their mother; all four were drenched, and after several minutes, the storm began to clear. _"You're too old for this! No more, you hear me? That's it!"_ Both Tim and Sarah had the decency to look ashamed. "Get in the house and dry off." Without a word, the two did as told, scampering past Ziva and Avianna to do as told. Kathleen tossed her hair, turning to John, who sighed, and followed his children. She glanced up at the sky, drinking in the fading black clouds for a moment, before following her family inside.

* * *

"What about the rings? Where are they?"

Avianna shook her head, tears glistening in her gaze. "I _dinna_ know." She sniffled. "They stole _ye fro'_ me, _an'... an' th'_ rings... _dis'ppeared_."

All four McGees had dried off, and now sat around the kitchen table, cups of coffee in front of them, the team gathered around, listening in silence. No one had said a word in regards to what had happened with the storm, though Abby clearly had questions, if her bouncing on the balls of her feet were any indication. Tony's gaze kept darting between Sarah and Tim, as though he couldn't decide who was crazier, and Ducky was studying the young agent and his family silently. Having been born and raised in Scotland, Ducky seemed like the one most likely to believe the McGee siblings, having grown up in a country steeped in myth and lore.

The siblings sat together, sneaking glances and communicating in the language they used when they thought they weren't being watched. Tim leaned towards his sister, whispering something to her, and she met his gaze before her green eyes darted towards Gibbs and the others on the team. She leaned close, whispering softly in his ear, and he nodded, signing something quickly in response. She shook her head, and glanced at Kathleen and John. Without a word, the siblings silently pushed back their chairs and stood-

 _"Sit. Down. Both of you."_

Without a word, they returned to their seats, sharing glances. Avianna sighed, twisting her fingers in her hair. "I wish... I _coul'_ tell _ye_ where _th'_ rings are, _bu'... I dinna know. Aft'r ye_ were _tak'n_... I wore _'em 'round me_ neck... _an' sudd'nly,_ they were gone. _Ye an'_ those rings were all I _'ad lef' o'_ Kiertan..."

"Woah, back up. Who's... Keirtane?" Tony asked, turning his attention to Avianna.

" _Kier_ tan." Avianna whispered.

"He's our..." Sarah glanced at John. "Our birth father." She amended.

"Oh." Tony nodded. "So... what? Is he... English? Is that why you can't be together?" Though Tony didn't know much about the Irish, he knew of Ireland's deep hatred for England and vice versa. Avianna shook her head.

 _"'e is... o' th'... th' Fae..._ " She swallowed thickly, turning her gaze to her children.

"I'm sorry... what? Fae as in... as in fairies?" Sarah nodded at the Italian's question. "Okay." He chuckled. "And you're... what? Human?"

 _"No' anymo'e."_

"I don't understand. How can you not be human? Unless you're a zombie-"

"She was human, Tony." Ziva whispered, watching Sarah rest her head against her brother's shoulder. The two linked hands, and after a moment, he kissed her head before resting his cheek against her hair.

"Exactly, Ziva. _Was._ That means she's got to be a zombie or-"

"A selkie." The Italian turned to the woman in question. _"I'ma_ selkie. A selkie witch _t'_ be specific. _'twas_ a witch long _b'fore_ I _b'came_ a selkie." And so she told them everything, from the very beginning; how she had grown up in the time of Granuaile O'Malley, how her father had sent her away on a ship to Hispanola, only to have it crash in the shoals not long after leaving port. How she'd fought to survive, even as the sirens dragged her beneath the waves, and begged to live, only to have the ocean grant her wish, turning her into a selkie.

The team listened in silence as she spoke of how she'd met the Crown Prince of the Fae two years after she'd turned, on the beach of Kinvara- she a maid come out to bathe in the sun, he a Fae masked as human, though the shimmer of wings in the sunlight gave him away- and how their affair had started and grown in secret. They listened as she explained how a year and a half into the affair, she fell pregnant with twins, and how the eternity rings were to bind the Crown Prince and his bride together forever; she spoke with tears in her voice of how he planned to give one of the rings to her, and how they planned to steal the rings and elope, but were caught.

" _'e go'_ me back _t' th'_ sea... _promis'd t'_ come back _t'_ me... _t'_ be there when our _chil'ren_ came _int' th'_ world..." She shook her head. " _'e nev'r_ came... _'e_ was... _tak'n pris'ner_ by _'is_ own _cour'_...they _curs'd_ me..." She glanced at Tim and Sarah, tears slipping down her cheeks, salty tears that raced down her cheeks and dripped into her tea.

Gibbs studied the woman; there was no way this was real. This had to be some... elaborate story she was making up, there was no such thing as fairies and selkies; they were merely folklore to explain happenings in the ancient world. But this woman clearly believed they existed. Either she was on drugs or suffering from some undiagnosed mental illness. He glanced at Ducky, but the older man shook his head.

"Cursed you how?" Abby breathed, enraptured by the tale.

"In a years' time, they _woul'_ steal _somethin' o'_ mine, _an'_ I... I _woul'_ live _wit' th'_ knowledge _tha' me_ own _chil'ren woul' ne'er_ remember who they truly were, or where they truly come from." She swallowed, glancing at her children again. "I bore twins." She sniffled, reaching up to brush the tears away. " _An' a' exac'ly_ a years' time, they came... stole _'em_ from me... _whe' th'_ fog rolled in..."

Tim turned to Sarah, meeting her gaze. A moment passed, where something flashed between them, before they both cried out,

 _"The fog!"_

Everyone turned to the siblings, surprised by their outburst, but neither noticed; instead, they climbed to their feet, rushing to grab their coats. Kathleen was on her feet, rushing after them, followed closely by John, Ziva and Gibbs. Avianna stood, worry etched into her green eyes as she watched her children rush from the house. " _Where are you going?_ Timothy! Sarah!"

Sarah turned back, hand on the doorknob. "I can't explain it, Mama-"

 _"Come on, Sister!"_ She turned to her brother, nodding, before turning back to Kathleen.

"I'm sorry, Mama. Please understand."

"Understand _what?_ " Kathleen cried, rushing to her daughter, but Sarah just pressed a kiss to her cheek, and moved to shut the door, but Kathleen grabbed it. The girl let it go, hurrying down the steps to join her brother. She grabbed his hand, and the two took off down the street, not bothering to take the car. Darkness began to fall, but the siblings didn't notice nor care as they dashed off into the darkness. _"Timothy! Sarah!"_


	19. Chapter 19

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2008.- Licia**

Two pairs of shoes sat forgotten on the beach; the sibling were wading in the shallows, watching the foam crash over their legs and feet as darkness continued to fall. Tim watched the water as Sarah dashed off, prancing through the water, throwing her jacket back onto the sand, a cry of absolute delight escaping her throat. The fog was slowly rolling in off the water, not that either sibling really noticed. After a moment, he rushed after his sister, catching her around the waist and spinning her around. They continued to dash through the water, laughing and screaming like children on roller coasters, unaware of the others making their way down the beach.

 _"Tim! Sarah!"_

"They can't hear us, John, they're too... engrossed in..." Kathleen shook her head, glancing at her husband. Avianna stopped beside the couple, her gaze locked on her children, watching as they played among the water-

Without a word, she rushed to them, leaving the others behind. After a moment, the others followed, stopping not far from the two siblings. Ziva watched with wide dark eyes as Tim laughed; she'd never seen him truly enjoy himself like he was at this moment- as if he didn't have a care in the world. But suddenly, he stopped, grabbing her shoulders. "The fog! _Sarah, the fog! That's_ how we got here! That's how we got to New Hampshire! The fog brought us!"

Avianna stopped feet from her children, his words cutting into her heart. Ziva slid to a stop beside her, Kathleen and John joining them, as the rest of the team hurried to catch up. Sarah glanced back, seeing their parents, their birth mother, the team-

"Do you think we'll be able to go back, Timmy?"

"Go back?" Kathleen whispered, turning to Avianna. _"What does she mean?"_ But the selkie witch shook her head.

"To Ireland?" Tim asked, glancing back at the others. Sarah nodded.

"If it brought us here, Timmy, who's to say it won't take us back? Maybe we'll be able to get more answers... find our... our birth father... maybe we'll _finally_ be able to figure out who we are!" She followed his gaze. "She's given us all the answers we can get out of her. It's up to us. You're the investigator, aren't you even the least bit curious to find where we come from? There has to be _more_ to the story than a selkie witch and a fairy prince. Those rings... maybe they hold the _key_. If... if we can _find_ them..."

" _Maybe_ we can finally put all the pieces together." He finished, and she nodded.

"And then we can decide our own fate. They won't be able to tell us what to do- _any_ of them." She took her brother's hands. "We're adults, we can make our own decisions, and they're only giving us half the story. If we can find the rest-"

"We can get back what we've lost." He whispered. His gaze moved back to Kathleen and John, and he bit his lip. _But that would mean-_ "Let's do it."

 _"Really?"_ He nodded, and she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. He caught her, stumbling back before finding his balance. The fog began to roll in thicker; it licked at their ankles like dogs, swirled around them like leaves dancing on the wind. Tim and Sarah watched the fog as it rolled in, moving around them like the thickest of cloaks as though it had a mind of its own. Tim pulled his sister closer, holding her against his chest; her arms went around him, and she buried her face in his chest, as the fog got heavier.

"No..." Avianna shook her head. _They 'ave t' stay away from th' fog._ _Th' wee folk- "No! Stay ou' o' th' fog!"_ She rushed towards them, Kathleen and Ziva following. But by the time they reached the water's edge, the fog had cleared and Tim and Sarah were gone.

* * *

 _"This is your fault! My children were... they were... as normal as they could be before you showed up! As soon as you appeared, everything went to Hell! My family was happy, we were content, we were fine! And you've destroyed it!"_

John's arms wrapped tight around his wife's waist; he lifted her off the ground pulling her away from the other woman. With the realization that Tim and Sarah had vanished into the fog, Kathleen turned on the one person who had brought disruption into their lives. Avianna listened, tears in her eyes as she turned her gaze to the shore, where her children had stood moments before, as the fog wrapped around them.

Who knew where they were now- probably prisoners of the Court, the same court that had disposed of their father... and if it was discovered they were Kiertan's children... She choked on a sob. She couldn't let her mind go there; she'd lived centuries without them, but being able to watch them from a distance, she couldn't bear the thought of living the next millennia having lost her children permanently.

Kathleen's cries cut through the roar of the waves, and she crumpled to the sand, wrapping her arms around herself. John held tight to her, letting her cry.

"Where did they go? What happened?"

Avianna didn't turn to Abby; she didn't remove her gaze from the ocean. "They _wen' int' th'_ fog... _'tis dang'rous._ " She turned back to the others, swallowing thickly. "If they _ge' caugh'_ by _th' Cour', an'_ it's _discov'red_ they're Kiertan's _chil'ren_..." She choked on a sob. "They will _suff'r f'r me_ sins. _F'r wha'_ I stole, _wha'_ _I_ did..." Slowly, she turned to Kathleen and John before quickly hurrying towards the shore. "I _nee' t'_ bring _'em_ back."

 _"No."_ Kathleen stood on shaky legs, gaze locked on Avianna as the woman turned back to her. Minutes passed, before the paramedic made her way to the other woman, stopping inches from her. "They're _my_ children. If _anyone's_ going to get them back, it's going to be _me_."

Avianna shook her head. " _Ye d' no'_ know _th'_ ways _o' th' cour'. Martaels_ will _no'_ survive _th' cour' an'_ it's... _trick'ry_."

"A _martael?_ _That's_ what you think of me?" Kathleen scoffed, turning her gaze to the shore where her children had once stood. She shook her head. "I... I may not possess magic like you and the kids do. I may not be part _seal_ , or have lived for _millennia_ like you have, I may not have married a Fairy prince, but that _doesn't mean_ that I _don't_ love those two children any _less_ than you do. And you may have given birth to them, but _I raised them_. They are _as much_ my children as they are yours, if not _more_. And I don't care if you use every trick in the book to get them to choose you over me, they're _my_ children. They will _always_ be my children. It's my job to protect them. It will _always_ be my job to protect them. Because they're my children and I love them." She bit her lip, sniffling, feeling the tears slid down her cheeks. "Now you _take me with you_ , or I'll figure out how to get their on my own."

Avianna turned back to the others before returning her gaze to Kathleen. She seemed to weigh the options, realizing that the paramedic wasn't going to budge on the issue. The pain her eyes was evident, as strong as the pain in her own heart. Her children had been stolen from her, not once, but twice, and after leaving them with a couple who clearly loved them, she was stealing them back. If she left now, leaving Kathleen behind, she would be no better than the Fae or Molly Phillips...

" _Wait!_ Tim, he... he is my _partner_..." Avianna turned her green eyes to the Israeli as Ziva slid to a stop before the women. "I... I..." She stopped; but it was evident, in her eyes. "He always has my back, and I always have his. Let me come. _Please_."

Avianna shook her head. "No." She turned to Kathleen, her voice even, quiet. "Only _ye. Th' oth'rs..._ they _canna_ come." Protests could be heard, but Avianna shook her head firmly. " _'tis_ to _dang'rous_. Anymore _an'_..." She stopped, turning back to Kathleen. Ziva and Kathleen shared a glance, before the paramedic nodded. Avianna nodded silently in understanding, backing up into the waves, her dark curls blowing about her face. And then, without another word, she turned, rushing further into the water before diving in. Minutes passed, before she lifted her head out of the sea; in the moonlight, Kathleen could see what appeared to be tattoos on her skin; she swam closer, her green eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

"What do I do?" Kathleen asked; silently, the selkie beckoned the woman closer. She glanced at Ziva, before turning to glance back at John. A soft smile tugged at her lips, and she mouthed softly to him, before turning back to the sea.

 _"Katlee-"_ But Gibbs and Tony gently held John back, knowing it was the best thing for the good doctor, though all they wanted to do was stop her.

Kathleen stopped when the water reached her thighs, biting her lip. "I'll drown if I go any deeper-"

Avianna swam closer, holding out a hand, green eyes studying her silently. _"'tis th'_ only way."

Kathleen glanced back at Ziva, who stood on the shore, arms around herself, lip between her teeth. "How? What way?"

Avianna shook her head, ducking down, until only her eyes floated above the water. She dove beneath the water, coming up inches from Kathleen, holding out a hand. _"T' ret'rn."_

Kathleen watched her, studying her intently. She'd allowed this... woman, this... creature... into her home... listened to her story, had watched her children disappear... and now... now she was agreeing to help her get her children back, before taking them away forever. How could she possibly trust this woman, this... thing? _You have no choice. Trusting her is the only way of ever getting your children back._

After a moment, Kathleen met her gaze. "I... I will get my children back."

A moment's hesitation, before Avianna nodded. " _An' 'opefully_ , break _th'_ curse." She sighed, meeting Kathleen's gaze. " _Ye mus' und'rstan', th'_ wishes _o' martaels_ will _'ave_ no _pow'r 'ere._ "

Kathleen let her words sink in before nodding in understanding. Taking a deep breath, she reached out, only hesitating briefly before placing her hand in Avianna's. The selkie's green eyes sparked in the moonlight, and she smiled. A knot began to form in Kathleen's stomach. _Oh, God, what have I done?_

But before she could voice such a question, Avianna tightened her grip on Kathleen's hand, and in one swift move, the selkie yanked the paramedic into the sea, before ducking down into the water seconds later, leaving nary a ripple as John's scream pierced the night sky.


	20. Chapter 20

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **Happy Belated St. Patrick's Day!**

 **A/N: Written: 2008.- Licia**

 _"No! Kathleen!"_

Ziva watched with tears in her eyes as John, having broken free of Gibbs and Tony, rushed past her and into the water, where his wife had once been. He frantically searched the water around him, looking, feeling, for any sign of his wife, but he came up empty-handed. Eventually, he turned back to Ziva. "Where did she go? Where?" In an instant, he was back on the shore, shaking the Israeli roughly by the shoulders. _"Tell me!"_

Ziva shook her head. _"I don't know, Mr. McGee!"_ She glanced out at the water, tears in her eyes. "I don't know."

* * *

The air was cold and sharp as it entered her lungs. Like a thousand little acupuncture needles poking her each time she took a breath, it took several breaths before she stopped feeling the poking sensation. Her eyes snapped open, and after a moment, she sat up, gasping in air as she realized that she was on a beach. "Timmy? Timmy?" Slowly, she climbed to her knees, looking around-

Her brother lay a couple feet away from her on his back, and she crawled towards him. _"Timmy! Brother! Wake up, Brother, please!"_ She shook him, firmly, and after several minutes, he started, choking on air. With a sob, Sarah threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. "I thought you'd left me alone!" A moment passed, before he wrapped his arms around her.

"I'll never leave you alone, Sarah."

When they'd finally gotten their bearings back, they stood, taking everything in. "Where are we, Timmy?"

He shook his head, but stopped. "I don't-"

 _The fog._

The fog had brought them back, just as it had taken them away. He turned to his sister. She met his gaze, green eyes filled with worry. "I... I think we're in... in Ireland..."

"Ireland? Are... how can you be so sure?"

He shook his head, meeting her gaze. "I'm not." He let his gaze wander, drinking in as much as he could. The ocean was to the west of them, cliffs to the east; beach stretched out for miles north and south. The sky above was overcast, and the salt of the sea filled their lungs. Without a word, Sarah grabbed onto her brother's hand, and he met her gaze. "Come on, Sister."

* * *

The salt of the sea filled her lungs, and she coughed, scrambling from the water onto the sand, struggling to catch her breath. In silence, Avianna stood, plucking her skin from the water before making her way to the woman catching her breath on the beach. Slowly, Kathleen lifted her head, meeting Avianna's gaze. "Was that... really... necessary?" She accepted the hand the selkie held out. "Couldn't we... have... taken a plane?"

" _Wha'_ is a p-l-a-n-e?"

"Nothing. Never mind." The paramedic waved the question away once on her feet, and after a moment, she looked around, wringing the water out of her hair. "Where are we?"

" _Th'_ shores _b'neath th'_ Cliffs _o' Mo'er_." Avianna replied, turning and making her way up the shore. Slowly, Kathleen's gaze moved upwards, taking in the jagged cliffs before her.

"Oh." A moment passed, before she rushed to catch up. "I read somewhere that... that the Cliffs are... are one of the... of the places for... for people to commit suicide. You know, like... like the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco or Aokigahara forest in Japan." Avianna stopped, turning to her, one eyebrow raised. "Just... interesting fact." The paramedic forced a nervous smile, as the selkie continued on. The women continued up the steps that had been carved into the cliffs in silence before, "So... where are we going?"

" _Inlan'_."

"Why?"

" _B'cause_ if they're _'ere, an'_ were _brough' 'cause o' th'_ fog, then _th'_ Fae are _inv'lved_."

"But... but what if... if the Fae... aren't involved?" She stopped in front of Avianna, forcing the woman to meet her gaze. "Maybe we should... start with... _her_ , first? Molly Phillips?" Green eyes darkened, and she pushed past Kathleen.

" _Th'_ fog _brough' 'em 'ere. No' tha' woman_." Avianna spat. "If _th' answ'rs_ we seek are _no' wit' th'_ Fae, then we go _t'_ her. A _trickst'r_ will give _inf'rmation_ in _r'turn f'r_ payment _fast'r_ than a woman faced _wit' losin' 'er chil'ren aga'n._ We _star' wit' th'_ Fae, _an'_ then we go _t' 'er._ "

"And... how do we... find them?" Kathleen asked, rushing to keep up.

" _Ye_ really _'ave_ no _und'rstan'in' o'_ myth _an'_ magic, do _ye_?" Avianna asked, turning to her. Kathleen blushed. " _'ave ye ev'r 'eard o' a fa'ry_ ring?"

* * *

They walked for what seemed like hours; darkness was slowly falling, and eventually, they stopped. He grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "Wait."

She turned to him, confused. "What is it, Brother?"

He shook his head, narrowing his gaze to see through the falling darkness. "It's... a house. Look."

She followed his gaze; several feet from them sat a small cottage, the type seen in books, with smoke curling out of the chimney. Even from this distance, it had a cozy, old time feel about it, with a small fence surrounding what appeared to be a garden, and a stone path that led to the door. Light shone from inside, and after a moment, Sarah squeezed his hand. "What do we do?"

Tim shook his head momentarily stumped. But after taking a deep breath, he turned to her. "Maybe they can tell us where we are, and how we get to the nearest town. Or... at least let us use their phone." Sarah bit her lip, before slowly nodding. She let her brother pull her forward, tightening her grip on his hand as they made their way to the small Irish cottage. Once they stood on the step, the two shared a glance, before Tim reached out, knocking sharply and quickly on the wooden door.

Several minutes passed, before it finally opened. "Yes?"

"Hi. We... we were wondering if you could possibly tell us where we are and how we can get to the nearest town? Or... if it would be all right if we could use your phone-"

But he stopped, at the startled look on the woman's face. Her long, light red hair was peppered with light grey, and her hazel eyes carried a sadness that had taken up residence years earlier. She looked as though the winds of her life had weathered her face, making her appear fifty years older than she probably was. "I... I'm sorry, you... you just..." She swallowed. Her voice was low, soft, and she let her eyes dart between the two. Tears began to gather in her gaze, and Sarah squeezed her brother's hand, concerned. "You look like my children..."

Tim and Sarah shared a glance. "Your children?"

The woman nodded, reaching up to brush at the tears that had escaped her eyes and slid down her cheeks. "Jack and Fiona. They went missing back in late eighty-nine and... haven't been heard from since... you both look so much like them, that... if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were my children, come back from the dead after all these years." She took a deep breath. "Please, come in. You both look exhausted and like you could use a cup of coffee and some sleep."

The two shared a glance. "Thank you, but we really just need to figure out how to get to the nearest town-"

"The nearest town is Kinvara, and that's a good two day's walk from here, and at night, it would be even longer. Please, stay the night, and I'll take you both to Kinvara in the morning."

Tim glanced at his sister. Stranger Danger popped into both their heads, but at this hour, with the sky darkening and night making its appearance, they didn't really have a choice. A roof over their heads- even for a few hours- was better than being out in the wilderness of God-knows-where in Ireland. The dots hadn't connected, both were too tired to try and make connections between the woman and Gibbs's cold case.

It was only one night.

After a moment, Sarah shrugged, squeezing her brother's hand. He sighed, turning back to the woman. "Kinvara?" The woman nodded. "And... we can get there from here in the morning?" Another nod. "Sleep wouldn't be such a bad thing." Sarah curled into her brother's arm, studying the woman. A look of sadness passed over her features, and she reached up, tangling her fingers in a chord she wore around her neck. She stepped aside.

"Consider this your home for the night."


	21. Chapter 21

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2008.- Licia**

Kathleen wrapped her arms around herself as she continued to follow Avianna. Darkness had slowly begun to settle overhead, but the selkie paid it no mind. She held a flame within her palm, lighting the way into the forest; used to it by now, Kathleen didn't even blink when Avianna created it, though tears did come to her eyes, as she thought of her children, somewhere in Ireland, possibly lost to her forever.

Eventually, they stopped, and Avianna pulled her closer. "See _tha'_?" It took a moment for the paramedic's gaze to adjust to the darkness and light before her, but eventually, she nodded. Mushrooms, in a near perfect circle. " _Tha's_ a _fa'ry_ ring." The selkie turned to meet the paramedic's gaze. " _D'pend'n'_ who _ye_ ask, _stepp'n' int'_ a _fa'ry_ ring can bring _eith'r_ bad _fort'ne_ or good. _Aga'n, d'pend'n'_ who _ye_ ask."

Kathleen met her gaze, swallowing. "Wh... which do... do you believe?"

Avianna cocked her head. " _Consid'rin' me encoun'er wi' 'em_ , I'd say bad, _bu'_..." She sighed. " _Bu' th' g'ft_ Kiertan gave me-"

"The kids."

She nodded. "They be both good _an'_ bad _, ye jus'_ need _t' le'rn 'ow t'_ play their games." She spoke from experience. Clearly, Avianna wasn't the naive young woman she'd been when she got pregnant; she knew better, she understood what the Fae were and how they played with people. How they cheated people and stole. The loss of her lover, her children, and the curse she'd had placed on her were evidence.

"What do we do?"

The other woman glanced back at the ring, her mind running through a plan. _"D' no'_ give _yerself_ a name; if _ye mus' 'ave_ a name, use one _tha'_ is _no'_ real. Names _'ave pow'r._ They will try _t'_ use it _'gainst ye_."

"Okay. What else?"

"Eat _nothin'_ they _off'r. T'_ eat from their land is _t'_ lock _yerself 'way_ from _th' land o' th' martaels fo'ev'r."_

"So... like Persephone eating the pomegranate seeds." She ignored Avianna's strange look. "Got it. Next?"

" _D' no'_ thank _'em fo' inf'rmation_ they give. _T'_ thank is _t' admi'_ a _deb'_ be owed, _an'_ they will do all they can _t' coll'ct_. We _'ppreciate_ their assistance, _an' tha'_ is all."

"Anything else?"

"Be cautious when _acc'ptin'_ gifts. _Oft'_ their gifts _'ave unf'rseen_..." She bit her lip, thinking of her children. "Side _eff'cts. Acc'pt_ a gift _off'red, bu'_ if _ye d' no' trus' th'_ one _wh' off'red, d' no' 'esitate t' d'stroy_ it."

"Like the kids?"

" _Tha'_ was _diff'r'nt."_

"How?"

The selkie swallowed thickly, turning away briefly. " _'twas un'xpected. An'_ Kiertan... _'e_ is _no'_ like _th' cour'. 'e woul' 'ave_ made a good king. An _hon'rable_ king. _An'_ a good _fath'r, 'ad_..." She stopped, taking a deep breath. " _D' no'_ speak _wit'_ offense. Be polite, _fo'_ many Fae are _old'r_ than _ye coul' ev'r_ dream _o' bein'._ " She then held out a hand, causing Kathleen to start in surprise. But the look in Avianna's eyes was one of sadness now, not the glimmer of mischief she'd worn earlier, when she'd pulled Kathleen into the sea. She, like Kathleen, wanted nothing more than to find Tim and Sarah.

After a moment, she took Avianna's hand, holding her breath as they stepped into the fairy ring.

* * *

The house was warm, cozy even.

The siblings looked around; it reminded them of their parents' home, with the fireplace and the kitchen connected by an open floor plan. And like the house they'd grown up in, it looked bigger on the inside than it did on the outside; stairs led to a second floor, and the living room and kitchen were both of good, reasonable size.

"Please. Sit. Let me get you some coffee to warm you up."

Sharing a glance, they did as told, taking seats at the kitchen table, as the woman set two mugs on the table before them. She quickly poured the mugs before pouring one for herself and taking a seat across from both, wrapping her hands around her own mug, her gaze studying them each in turn. Tim glanced at her. "I don't think we caught your name."

She blushed, glancing into her mug. "I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself after opening the door. I'm Mackenzie Phillips, but everyone calls me Molly. And you two are-"

"I'm... I'm... Timothy McGee and this is... my younger sister, Sarah." The girl gave her a quick smile.

"It's nice to meet you both." She sipped her coffee silently. "How did you two end up in Ireland?"

The siblings shared a glance, confusion filling both their faces. "I... I don't remember. Do you, Sarah?"

The girl shook her head. "No, not really." They settled into uncomfortable silence, refusing to look at each other or even speak. Clearly, the fog had done something to them both.

Molly watched them, telling herself to keep calm, to not get her hopes up, that just because they looked like the age progressed composites of her children, didn't mean they _were_ her children. _But they look exactly how Jack and Fi would look as adults._

The girl yawned, and Molly stood, reaching over to take the mug from her. "I'll show you the guest room upstairs. I hope you two don't mind sharing a bed-"

"Not at all." The girl replied, glancing at her brother. "I'd crawl into bed with my brother a lot when I was little, especially if I was afraid of something. We can survive one night."

Molly nodded, reaching for his mug; the chord tumbled out from beneath her blouse, and his gaze lit on the jewelry hanging from the chord.

Two rings of black agate set in silver.


	22. Chapter 22

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2008.- Licia**

Silence filled the air.

For the briefest of moments, it felt as though nothing had happened, as though they'd just stepped into a ring of mushrooms-

And then suddenly, everything changed.

When she looked up next, she found herself in what appeared to be an underground cave of some sort. No, cave wasn't the right word. This was more than a cave; decorated in beautiful spiderweb silks and flowers. There was something almost ethereal about where they now stood. It took all she had not to pull away from Avianna and wander around, as her gaze drank everything in she could see. She moved forward, trying to drink everything in, when Avianna tugged her back.

 _"Don'."_ She moved into the shadows. "We _canna_ be seen, _f'r_ we _dinna kno'_ if who we _mee'_ shall be _frien'_ or foe."

Without a word, the two snuck through the shadows; Avianna seemed to have an idea of where they were going, but she wasn't fully sure. It had been so long since she had been in the court, and she could not remember to which Kiertan had belonged- Seelie or Unseelie. She knew that both existed, as she and the herd existed, and that each court represented light or dark-

"How will we know if they can help us?"

She turned back to Kathleen, who clutch tightly to her hand, though there was still that wide-eyed amazement in her dark eyes. Avianna bit her lip. "We _don'._ "

"Where are we?"

A moment passed, before Avianna stopped, looking around. Darkness filled their surroundings, evening roses bloomed, and stars winked overhead, for the court could pull the stars from the heavens for their own enjoyment. If she were to make a guess... _"Th' 'nseelie Cour'._ "

"The what?"

The selkie turned, meeting her gaze. " _'tis th' dar' cour' o' th'_ Fae."

"Dark court? Like... like black magic?"

As the two continued on, Avianna rolled her eyes, before shaking her head. " _No'... necessar'ly..._ does _no'_ take much _t' off'nd th'_ Fae _o' th' 'nseelie."_

"So," Kathleen hopped over something lying on the ground that Avianna easily skirted. Her foot caught, and it took a moment before she could free herself. "I... I thought you said that... that the kids' father was a fairy-"

" _'e_ is. Kiertan is _th' Crow'_ Prince _o' th' 'nseelie Cour'_."

"So he's a dark fairy?"

Avianna turned back to her. " _Aye, bu' 'tis nothin'_ dark _'bout 'im. 'e_ may _'ave_ been born _t' th' 'nseelie cour', bu' 'e_ is _th' furth'st_ thing from a dark fae."

"Would he be... be able to help us?"

They continued on. "If we _canna_ find _'im_. If _'e's_..." She swallowed. "If _'e's_ still... _'live_."

"I thought fairies were immortal?"

" _Aye, bu'_ their _pun'shments_ are-" She stopped, holding a finger to her lips. The women stayed silent, watching as something passed by. A glimmer of wings; Avianna slammed a hand over Kathleen's mouth to keep her from gasping in shock, and both watched as the fairy stopped, turning towards them. He stepped closer, and Kathleen saw the glitter of his wings in the darkness.

A moment passed, as he got closer and closer, before deciding that he'd been hearing things and turned, moving on. Once certain, they were safe, Avianna grabbed Kathleen's hand, pulling her along as they fled out of the courtyard, toward what the paramedic could only think was a forgotten passage into the castle. "Where are we going?"

" _Th'_ dungeons."

"Why?"

 _"B'cause_ if Kiertan is still _'ere, an'_ we _'elp 'im 'scape_ , maybe _'e canna 'elp_ us fin' the kids. _'twould rath'r_ deal _wit'_ Kiertan than any oth'r o' th' Cour'."

"You trust him more than the court?" Kathleen asked, digging her heels in as they made their way through the passage down to the dungeons. Avianna turned back to her.

" _Aye_ , I do."

"But... but _why_?"

Tears filled the selkie's gaze. " _B'cause... 'e_ gave us our _chil'ren_."

Kathleen started; it was the first time she'd heard Avianna admit that Tim and Sarah not only belonged to her, but to Kathleen herself as well.

* * *

Tim felt his heart stall momentarily as he stared at them, at the rings Avianna had spoken about- crafted by the Fae for their father and his bride, the very rings their mother stole with their father's help- the Eternity Rings, hung from a chord around Molly Phillps's neck.

He glanced at Sarah, who just shook her head, confused at the look on her brother's face. A moment passed, before Tim stood, faking a yawn. "If it's okay, where is the guest room? I'm sure we can find it with no trouble."

Molly nodded, startled, and then gestured up the stairs. "Um... up... upstairs and down the hall to the left. Are you sure you don't want me-"

He shook his head. "No thank you. We can find it. Right, Sarah?"

The girl nodded, catching on as she climbed to her feet and joined her brother. They whispered their goodnights and made their way up the stairs, leaving Molly standing in the kitchen, surprised. As Tim shut the door softly behind them, Sarah finally spoke up.

"What's going on, Timmy?"

He turned to her, watching as she took a seat on the bed. A moment passed, as he toed off his shoes and joined her, pulling the covers back and slipping underneath them, once he'd slipped out of his jeans and over shirt, remaining in only his boxers and a tank. Sarah wore only her boyshorts and bra, and curled into her brother's embrace, tucking her head under his chin. "I saw the rings, Sarah. The Eternity Rings our mo- our birth mother told us about."

"Where are they?" She asked, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. He sighed, wrapping his arms tight around her waist and holding her closer.

"They're on a chord, around her neck."

"Wait," Sarah sat up, turning to her brother. " _She_ has them?" Her brother nodded. "She... Molly..." She stopped, something clicking in her head.

"Sarah? What is it?" The girl's eyes widened and she covered her mouth to silence a squeal. Immediately, Tim sat up, taking her shoulders. "Sister, what's wrong?"

"Her! Molly... she said her name was Molly Phillips, right?" Tim nodded slowly, unsure of where his sister was going. "The composites that are part of the case your team is working on. Didn't Gibbs say that a Molly Phillips filed the report with her husband when her children went missing?" Again, Tim nodded.

"So?"

" _So?_ Timmy! That woman is Molly Phillips!"

"But Molly is a really common name, probably even more common in Ireland, there could be hundreds of Molly Phillips's in Ireland-"

"But only _one_ with two rings around her neck." Sarah cut him off, and her brother sighed, thinking. Sarah did have a point. Everything she'd said did make sense, in some way, shape or form.

"Okay, okay. Sarah." The girl turned back to her brother. "Let's say everything about her is correct, and she is the woman who... took us... from our birth parents. How exactly do you suggest getting the rings back?"

The girl thought a moment, her brilliant mind- so similar to her brother's- working a million miles a minute. Eventually, she turned back to her brother, reaching out and taking his hand. "You're not going to like this, Timmy, but it might be the only way."

He narrowed his green eyes at her. "What is it?"

She bit her lip. "When she opened the door, she thought we were her missing children, right?"

"Right?"

"Well, and hear me out, Brother," She shifted, folding her legs beneath her as she turned to face him and took his hands. "What if we were?"

"Were?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Her missing children. What if we really were her missing children?"

* * *

She couldn't believe it; they looked so much like the age-progressed composite sketches that had been done of her children when they disappeared, it was uncanny. Scary, even. She turned her gaze from the computer to the stairs that led to the bedroom where the siblings were sleeping, her fingers tangling in the chord around her neck. If she didn't know any better, she'd have thought that it was the Gods playing some sick prank on her, sending two young adults that looked so much like her missing children to her door...

But something in her heart told her that this was no joke. That they really were her missing children, returned to her after years away. She couldn't describe it, she just knew. Strange as it was and sounded, she just knew.

 _After all,_ she mused, _stranger things had happened_ , especially in regards to her family.

* * *

"Let me see if I can get this right. You want us to pretend to be that woman's missing children in order to take back the Eternity Rings our birth mother stole from the Fae. The same Fae who cursed her and took us from her for taking the rings?" Sarah nodded. "The same woman who our birth mother claims stole us from her- or rather, stole from the Fae, who stole us from her, and kept us for God knows how many years before we ended up with Mom and Dad?"

She nodded again. "Exactly, Timmy."

"That is... the most... convoluted, asinine, ridiculously insane plan I've ever heard." Her face fell, and her brother took a seat on the bed, having stopped his pacing. He took her hand, a small grin tugging at his lips. "I like it."

 _"Really?"_

Tim nodded; the reserved one of the McGee siblings, Tim wasn't known for letting loose and pulling pranks much. So when he did, it was rare. But this... this wasn't so much a prank as a chance to get answers. Answers in regards to where they came from, how they ended up on Hampton Beach in America, how they ended up with the Phillips's in the first place. This could give them all the answers they sought-

"You mean it, Timmy?" He nodded again, as Sarah threw her arms around her brother, stifling her squeal in his shoulder. He chuckled softly, holding a finger to his lips.

"Shh. We don't want to wake her up."

"So when can we start?" Sarah asked, pulling away and climbing back under the covers as her brother joined her.

"Tomorrow is always a good start." Tim replied, as she snuggled into his arms, tucking her head beneath his chin.

"But what will we say? 'Hi, Mom, sorry to scare you, but we remembered who we are last night and wanted to let you know that we're home now?' Sounds real believable, Timmy."

"We'll think of something, Sarah." He yawned, pulling the blankets further around them. "In the morning."

Sarah nodded, and then lifted her head. "But Timmy-"

He tightened his hold on her, kissing her head. "Sleep, Sarah." She pushed herself up, pressing a kiss to her brother's cheek before returning to her place on his chest. Eventually, sleep claimed her, and she slept, her brother's steady heartbeat lulling her into slumber like one of Kathleen's lullabies.


	23. Chapter 23

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2008. - Licia**

Tim awoke the next morning, to find Sarah asleep on his chest. After several minutes of confusion, everything suddenly came rushing back to him. They were at Molly Phillips's place, and the siblings had decided on a plan to get the rings back from her- the rings that belonged to their birth parents. Being careful not to wake Sarah, he gently lifted her from his chest and laid her back among the blankets before climbing out of the bed and getting dressed. Upon slipping out of the guest room, he found a set of new toothbrushes and some tooth paste in the bathroom, and made quick work of trying to make it look as though he hadn't spent the night as his little sister's pillow.

Once he was certain he was somewhat presentable, he slipped downstairs, to find Molly fixing coffee. Softly, he cleared his throat, and she turned. The rings sparked in the morning light around her neck. "Good morning. Sleep well?"

He nodded, remaining silent, giving himself a moment to study her. She was by no means young, but also not as old as one would expect- probably in her mid-forties, if he were to take a wild guess, and if she'd kidnapped them when they were children... then she'd probably been in her late-twenties at that time. Their mother was in her mid-thirties, so it made sense. Her red hair fell to her shoulders, and she was thin but tall; had probably, if Tim were to guess, at one time been a willowy young woman that turned men's heads. So what had driven this woman to steal two children? Pain? Loss?

"Coffee?" She held up the pot, and he nodded, taking a seat as she gestured to the table and then quickly got a mug. Once she'd poured a cup, she set the pot down, asking, "Are you hungry? I can whip something up real quick-"

"I'm not. My sister will be though, when she wakes up." The woman nodded, something lighting in her eyes at his mention of Sarah. After a moment, she took a seat across from him, and silence fell between them. Tim sighed, his brilliant mind working on a way to put their discussion from the night before into action. After a moment, he asked, "Do you have any kids?"

Her gaze filled with pain, and she smiled softly at him. "A son, and a daughter. Jack, my son, was born-"

"On September thirteenth, nineteen-seventy-nine?" He asked, and she started, eyes widening. A moment passed, before she nodded.

"Yes. How... how did you know?"

 _Because I've studied this case for weeks, from the moment it landed on Gibbs's desk._ "My birthday is September thirteenth, nineteen-seventy-nine. My sister was born on October tenth, nineteen-eighty-one." He watched her silently, gauging her reaction. He'd learned a few mind tricks from Ziva, thankfully, and now had a chance to put them to good use. She tried not to let this new information rattle her in any way, and after a moment, simply nodded as she sipped her coffee.

"Quite the coincidence." She whispered.

Tim grinned inwardly. _Coincidence indeed._

A moment passed, before footsteps on the stairs caused them to both turn. Sarah, fully dressed and as presentable as she could get, was making her way down the stairs, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Once she reached the table, she gave a half-hearted hello, and took a seat beside her brother. Molly slid a cup of coffee towards her, itching to ask the siblings something- anything- that would get them to reveal a little more about themselves, so that she might discover if they were really her missing children.

"Do you remember anything else, now that you've both had a good night's sleep?" She glanced between the two; neither sibling looked at the other, and after a moment, the girl spoke up.

"I think we might have given you false names last night. I'm sorry. Sarah was the first name I could think of, and we weren't sure we could trust you."

Molly shrugged, essentially waving it away. The young man kept quiet, watching his sister intently out of the corner of his eye. "No worries. I just... you startled me last night. For the briefest of moments, I thought I was staring at my children again; you look like them so. But that can't possibly be; they've been missing for-"

"Over ten years?" The girl replied. "Closer to fifteen, probably?" Slowly, Molly nodded.

"Yes. They went out to play and never came back." Sadness filled her gaze, and after a moment, Sarah glanced at her brother. She didn't inform him of what she was planning on saying, she only hoped he'd get the hint and join in as quickly as possible.

"That's because we couldn't." She whispered, wrapping her hands around the mug. Molly looked up, confusion filling her gaze. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, but... after so many years, well... we didn't think you'd recognize us."

"I don't under-"

Sarah sighed, reaching into the pocket of her jeans. A moment passed, before she pulled out a folded flyer- one of the missing posters that had been with the case file Tim had been studying when everything began. How she'd managed to nick it without anyone seeing, only Sarah knew. She unfolded it, and set it on the table, sliding it towards Molly, who hesitantly reached out to take it. "We found this... taped to a street light in Dublin, three weeks ago. When we realized that you were still looking for us... we decided to... come find you, but... our car stalled midway through the moors, and we got lost along the way. It was just... dumb luck that we stumbled back here. We gave you Timothy and Sarah McGee as our names because... those are the names we've been living under for the last... fifteen years or so."

Molly's green eyes darted between the siblings, unsure of what she was hearing. A thousand questions bounced through her mind, but not one came out of her mouth. Sarah glanced at Tim, who gave the subtlest of nods, indicating he'd caught on to her game. Give away true facts, but mix them in with a few lies sprinkled here and there, anything to gain her trust and let them get close.

"But... how... where... where have you been... all this time..."

"We got lost on the way back that night. A couple driving down the road found us; Jack fell, hit his head. I think was probably suffering from... hypothermia. Couldn't remember anything, when they asked us. The couple that found us- the man is a doctor in Dublin, and his wife is a paramedic. They were coming back from visiting family and... took us back to Dublin. Had us checked out. No one came looking for us, so... they took us in. Treated us like their own. They adopted us later on, because we had no memory of who we were or where we lived, there was no issue with the courts. Jack and I... we grew up in Dublin. He's part of the Garda now. And... I attend Dublin University. We've done really well for ourselves, _Mams_. I'm sorry it took so long for us to come home. Do you forgive us?"

Molly's gaze continued to dart between the siblings, as though she couldn't quite believe the story. She glanced down at the missing flyer, at the images of her son and daughter as children, before glancing back at the two young adults across from her. Something in her heart told her that these were her children, and try as she might, she couldn't deny it. Was she so desperate for her missing children that she'd believe anything this young woman told her, any lie this pair spun? But then her gaze drifted back to the flyer; they looked so much like the photos before her, that this had to be true. These had to be her children, returned to her, after all these years. They were mirror images of the photographs she'd so carefully chosen back in eighty-nine, just older, more adult.

After a moment, she reached out, taking Sarah's hand. "Of course I forgive you, Fiona. How could I not?" She glanced at Tim, who smiled quickly and reached for her other hand. "You're my children."

The siblings shared a glance. Neither one had missed the slight glow of the rings that hung around Molly's neck.

* * *

"How will we even know where to _look_?"

Avianna glanced around, never releasing Kathleen's hand as they made their way through the dungeon corridors. " _Th' Cour' woul' no' jus'_ kill _'im. D'spi'e 'is b'trayal, 'e_ is still their prince. _'twill_ keep _'im_ down _'ere f'r_ as long as they see _fi'_."

Kathleen could sense that Avianna spoke of more than just Kiertan's imprisonment- she spoke of her own, of the curse, of the loss of her children. In keeping Kiertan locked in the bowels of the court and away from Avianna, they inflicted the most pain on the woman he loved most- and by tearing her children from her, children he had never gotten to meet, it meant that Avianna was even more under their control, for her pain was multiplied tenfold. After what seemed like several more hours of skulking through the dungeons, but was only a matter of moments, the two women stopped.

Avianna stifled a gasp, rushing to a cell not far from where they stood. Slowly, Kathleen followed, not wanting to be separated from the selkie for too long, lest they be caught. "What is it?" She joined the woman at the bars, squinting through the darkness at the figure sitting on the floor, leaning against the far wall. A moment passed, before Avianna conjured a small flame in her palm, and held her hand through the bars. In the flickering firelight, Kathleen could just make out the glimmer of wings. "What's wrong?"

But the selkie didn't answer. Instead, she lifted her other hand, conjured a small galaxy within her palm, and then blew on it; the stars that had once resided in her hand floated towards the person in the cell, becoming tiny starbursts once they reached him. He lifted his head, and after a moment, climbed to his feet. He could see someone against the bars, someone he thought he'd never see again-

After several tense minutes, he took a slow step towards the women, then another and another, until finally, his features became outlined by the firelight held in Avianna's palm. Kathleen started, never having seen such... unusual features before. His piercing gaze took both women in, before he slowly let it settle on the selkie. Her companion grabbed her arm, unable to take her eyes off him, even as she leaned close to the other woman, whispering softly,

"Who _is_ that?"

The selkie just shook her head, her gaze latched on his, and after a moment, in a voice choked with tears, she breathed,

 _"Kiertan."_


	24. Chapter 24

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **Written: 2008.- Licia**

After breakfast, Tim and Sarah helped the clean up; they kept Molly talking, gathering as much information from her as humanly possible without trying to appear suspicious. Though, pretending that they'd recently returned after losing their memories helped. As Tim shut the dishwasher and started it, he looked up, eyes lighting on the rings around Molly's neck. Instinctively, he reached out take them, and after a moment, Molly let him.

The rush of magic that coursed through him as the rings made contact with his skin was exhilarating, nearly overwhelming, and he forced himself to play dumb, despite the pulsing deep within his blood. "They're beautiful. Where did you get them?"

The older woman glanced down, sighing softly as she reached up to take them out of Tim's hand. "My grandmother gave them to my husband and I, when she met him. She said she just knew they were meant for us."

"What was her name?"

Molly turned to Sarah, pouring another cup for each of them. "Fiona. She was the first. Before you." Sarah gave her a tight-lipped, quick smile as she reached out, brushing a curl off her cheek.

"You wear them on a chord around your neck?" Sarah asked, as she sipped her coffee once Molly had pulled away.

"I was... going to give them to you when you both hit your teenage years, but..." She stopped, eyes growing misty. A moment passed and the siblings shared a glance, before Tim reached out, laying a hand over hers. "But you disappeared long before that."

Tim glanced at Sarah, and he couldn't stop himself, his voice soft and tender as he spoke,

"Well, we're back. I know it's... a little past our teenage years, but... you could still give them too us, if you want to."

* * *

She couldn't keep the tears from her eyes as she reached for him through the bars. _"I though' I'd nev'r see ye 'gain."_ A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but he kept quiet. She shook her head, dark red curls shifting back and forth with movement. _"I'mma so sorry, Kiertan. I nev'r mean' f'r any o' this t' 'appen..."_

 _"I'ma jus' glad t' see ye, 'gain."_ She choked on a sob, and he reached out through the bars, catching her tears as they fell. _"Oh, Avianna."_ A moment passed, before his dark eyes moved to take in Kathleen behind her. _"'ho_ is this?"

Avianna turned, meeting Kathleen's gaze. "K... _Kat'leen_. She... _'as_ been _raisin'_ our _chil'ren_ , Kiertan."

His brow furrowed in confusion. _"Chil'ren?"_

She nodded, her fingers finding and threading through his long, slender ones. Kathleen watched them silent; despite the shadows cast by the small flame in Avianna's hand, she could tell that he was definitely of a different race- the young prince's chin was pointed, his eyes were slightly upturned, and his nose was closer to a diamond shape at the tip, and his lips were thin. But what seemed to enchant her were his eyes and hair, for his eyes were silver in color, or appeared to be. And his hair, long and pin-straight, was an exceedingly pale, platinum blonde. He was truly beautiful in his own way. Clearly, her children had inherited their hair and eyes from their mother, not their father. _"Ye don' rem'mb'r?"_

He shook his head slowly. "I... knew _ye_ were _wit' chil', bu'_ -"

The young woman sniffled, fresh tears glimmering in her eyes. "Twins." She whispered, glancing at Kathleen. "A boy _an'_ a girl. _'tis beau'iful,_ they are."

He nodded, his gaze going to Kathleen again briefly, before returning to Avianna. _"Ye sai' tha' she-"_

 _"Took 'em from me, th' cour' did. A year af'er they w're born. Curs'd me, f'r stealin' th' rings. Kiertan, I-"_

Kathleen glanced behind her, fearing she'd heard something- though it could have just been her mind playing tricks on her, before turning back to the prince. There was something tangling in the pit of her stomach, that screamed that they didn't have much time, and she spoke up. "They're here, somewhere in Ireland, my children are. Please, you _have_ to help us find them-"

Something flashed in his gaze as it locked on Kathleen. _"An' 'ow am I t' do tha', Lass?"_ He breathed. "Those _imprison'd with'n th'_ court's dungeons are _no' mean' t'_ escape."

The paramedic's gaze slowly moved about, searching for something they could use. "You're magic, aren't you? Both of you?" Avianna turned back to her.

 _"Aye. An'?"_

"What if it's not magic you need to escape?" The prince furrowed a brow as Kathleen shrugged. "I'm not magical. I come from the real world-"

"A _marteal_ , I knew _'twould_ be safe, our _chil'ren_." Avianna told him, tears in her voice. He simply nodded, never taking his gaze off Kathleen.

"I have no magic. I'm not like our children." Avianna's gaze widened briefly as the words slipped from Kathleen's lips. The paramedic had fought her the entire way, insisting Tim and Sarah were _her_ children, not Avianna's. Perhaps it was the circumstances, forcing her to lose control of her tongue, the loss of her children, and the fear. "Maybe I can-" She glanced at Avianna, who shrugged; Kiertan nodded once, stepping back from the bars.

Without a word, the woman reached out, brushing her fingers against the metal. For the briefest of moments, nothing happened. And then, the trio watched in complete surprise, as that very same metal her fingers had brushed over, slowly began to crumble.

* * *

That morning, after breakfast, Tim and Sarah slipped out of the house, telling Molly that they were going to go for a walk, explore the yard and the area around the house, get reacquainted with everything. Once outside and far enough away that she couldn't hear, Tim turned to his sister. A soft breeze blew their hair into their eyes and caressed their skin.

"Those... those rings... when they touched my skin, I..." He bit his lip, unsure he should continue, or if Sarah would even believe him. She waited, hands in the pockets of the light jacket Molly had let her borrow. She watched her brother, knowing that he needed time to gather his thoughts together before speaking. "It... it was almost like... like _magic_..."

"I don't understand, Timmy." She replied, brow furrowing. He let out a scoff of annoyance, running a hand through his hair.

"When I reached out and touched those rings this morning, Sarah. It was... it was almost as though... as though his magic..."

Her lips formed around the _Who?_ but he continued, not giving her a chance to ask. "It was almost as though... as though our _Da_... as though his magic was..." Slowly, he released a breath, gathering his thoughts. "It was as though our Da's magic was... was _calling_ to me, through those rings."


	25. Chapter 25

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N:** **Written: 2008.- Licia**

Kathleen's eyes widened in shock. _What. the. Hell...?_

Though both parts of the bar were still intact, there was a good-sized chunk missing from the middle. Avianna's bright gaze darted between the bar and Kathleen and back. She'd never heard of such a thing being able to happen, let _alone actually_ happening. And yet, there it was, the strongest iron in all the realms, crafted by the darkest magic of the Unseelie Court, crumbling before her eyes at the touch of a mere-

"A _marteal... ye... ye're a marteal_ -"

"Yeah, I _got that_." Kathleen replied, finally finding her voice. She looked down at her hands, gaze dancing across her fingertips. Her son's magic came from his fingers, but there had to be something more to it. What had Tim told her once?

 _"Magic- especially strong magic- has to have emotion behind it- Anger. Fear. Sadness. Joy. Love. It's like when we cause the majority of the electronics to short circuit or the weather to shift. If Sarah and I are fighting, that emotion is there. That's what makes our magic really powerful, Mama. The emotion behind it."_

She shook her head. "But there's no emotion behind this, my son. None whatsoever."

Avianna glanced at Kiertan, before stepping towards Kathleen. " _Wha'_ are _ye sayin'_?"

The paramedic's gaze darted from her hands to the selkie, and she bit her lip. "Tim... Timothy told me once that... that magic has to have an emotion behind it. That if there's emotion behind it..." She stopped. "That it's more... more powerful with emotion behind it." She shook her head slowly. "But there's no emotion behind this."

"Are _ye_ _sure 'bout tha', Lass_?" Kiertan asked, and slowly, Kathleen met his gaze.

* * *

" _Calling to you_? Timmy, are you _sure_?"

He nodded. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life, Sarah. It was... this... this _strong_... almost... _dark_..." He shook his head. "It... it was almost like there was this... this darkness about it... this really, _really_ strong darkness." Sarah met her brother's gaze, fear flashing in her eyes.

"Darkness? Timmy, that's bad. _Darkness is bad_. Don't you remember the _Harry Potter_ novels? Or... or like the dark casters from _Beautiful Creatures_ -"

"You've been reading too many fantasy novels, Sarah." Her brother replied as they fell into step together, continuing away from the house. She grabbed his arm, turning him to face her.

" _Timmy-_ " The look on her face caused him pause, and he sighed before they continued on.

"Don't you remember your mythology, Sarah?" She opened her mouth to speak, before stopping. He snorted softly. "In traditional fairy mythology, there are two courts- the Seelie and-"

"The Unseelie." She finished softly, and he grinned in response.

"The Unseelie are dark, and the Seelie are light. Good and bad. Both sides of nature."

"So when you touched those rings-"

"It was dark. The energy I felt. I don't necessarily think it was _bad_ , but it wasn't light or good either." He stopped, thinking. "And didn't our birth mother say something about our birth father being a _dark fairy_?" His sister shrugged. A moment passed before he furrowed a brow. "I don't remember either. But if those are the rings she told us about, then they _have_ to have some connection to the court, regardless of whether it's light or dark."

"Which means they have some connection to our birth father." Sarah finished. Her brother nodded.

* * *

"I... I don't know that I _can_ do it again. Maybe it was a fluke, a one-time thing-"

Slowly, Avianna pulled away from Kiertan, going to Kathleen. She extinguished the small flame in her palm, casting them all into darkness, and reached up, taking the other woman's shoulders. " _Kat'leen. 'tis_ our _chil'ren a'_ stake. I know _ye wan' 'em_ back as badly as I, _ev'n_ though they _'twill no' r'turn t' ye-"_

Kathleen looked up, meeting her gaze. "What do you mean, 'won't return to me'? They're _my_ children. I may not have given _birth_ to them like you, but I love them as though I _had_. _I_ raised them, _I_ made sure they had a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. _I_ made sure they were loved, and that they understood that even though they were adopted, they were still a part of my family. They're _my_ children, Avianna, whether you like it or not. And they have lives in my world, not yours. Regardless of what you think of _my world_ , their lives are there. Their friends, their family."

The selkie took a deep breath, pulling away from the paramedic. She was silent for several minutes, gaze turned away, as though she couldn't bear listening to the other woman's words, before finally meeting Kathleen's gaze. "So _ye woul' steal me chil'ren from me?_ "

Kathleen's tone bit as she spoke, closing the distance between them. " _You are planning on stealing them from me. Or are you suddenly going to pretend like that wasn't your plan from the very beginning?"_ She turned back to Kiertan, who watched them in stunned silence. Without a word, she brushed past the selkie, going to the fairy prince. Without touching the bars, she leaned close, meeting his silver gaze. "You may have created them, and she may have birthed them, but they are _mine._ They belong to me; they have for the last twelve years. They are my children, and I am getting them back, regardless of what you both want."

Avianna's words came back to her. _Do not speak with offense._

She bit her tongue, thinking. "If I release you, you will help return my children to me. You may be their true father, but I am their mother. They know my world, not yours. My husband is their father, not you." He raised an eyebrow, studying her briefly. There was a fire in the young woman that would do her well to protect her against the darkest of horrors they would face- for to go against the Unseelie Court would spell disaster. And for a _marteal_ to cross the Court...

Yes, this young woman would make a strong ally, if not to Avianna, then to him. He knew the selkie was resisting the woman's help, no matter how she tried to hide it, and he sighed internally. Had her ordeal really turned the girl he loved as bitter as her words betrayed? Was she so desperate to regain what was rightfully hers, that she would destroy the family her children had grown up in? When had the girl he'd fallen in love with turned as dark as the court he had been born to rule over?

He glanced at Avianna, before turning back to Kathleen. He was not like either woman, for though he had known Avianna had been with child, he had had no idea that she had borne twins. He did not have the connection either Kathleen or Avianna did with them, and so his deepest desire was much simpler than theirs. His gaze darted to Kathleen's fingers, and he watched as she lifted a hand to the bars, fingers skimming the iron slowly. It crumpled away like dust in the wind. Their eyes met, and he nodded. He knew what he wanted in regards to his children; he wanted one thing, and one thing only.

 _"I ask f'r nothin' in r'turn, but t' mee' me chil'ren, Lass."_


End file.
